Tides of Darkness
by Gamov
Summary: My first fic here. It's a Halo/Star Wars cross over that is sort of an alternate take of the events of Alpha Halo when the Galactic Empire unexpectedly shows up. Now rated M for 50% more blood and gore!
1. Brothers in Arms

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 1

Brothers in Arms

"Cortana, all I need to know is, did we lose them?" Keyes asked as he stood staring out the view port window of the Pillar of Autumn's bridge towards the gas giant Threshold and it's strange satellite.

Immediately she answered him. "I think we both know the answer to that."

Keyes sighed then scratched the back of his head. "We made a blind jump, how did they…"

Cortana interrupted him and finished his sentence, "Get here first? The Covenant ships have always been faster. As for tracking us all the way from Reach, at lightspeed, my maneuvering options were limited."

Keyes clasped his hands behind his back and walked over to a control panel. "We were running dark, yes?" He asked as he leaned over the shoulder of a crewmember, who was fidgeting with the console in front of him, and took a look at the readout on the monitor.

"Until we decelerated. No one could have missed the hole we tore in subspace." Keyes continued to regard the screen in front of him as Cortana continued, "They were waiting for us on the far side of the planet."

"So, where do we stand?" Keyes inquired as he walked over to the large transparent green shaded command screen. The screen in front of him was alive with data of every nature. Telemetry readings and ship movements were tracked all along the length of the display as Keyes observed it with a keen eye.

"Our fighters are mopping up the last of their recon picket now, nothing serious. But I have isolated approach signatures from multiple CCS class battle groups; make that three capital ships per group. And in about 90 seconds, they'll be all over us."

Keyes closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration. He had given it his best shot, but the Covenant still managed to trace the jump and intercept them. He was certain that this time there would be no escape. However, Keyes quickly regained his composure and decided that they would stand and fight for as long as they could. If this was to be their last stand, then let them take as many of those alien bastards with them as possible.

"That's it then. Bring the ship back up to combat alert alpha. I want everyone at their stations." Keyes ordered.

Within seconds of the order, blaring alarms and red lights went off all over the ship.

Cortana, seeking to ascertain Keyes' level of preparation asked, "everyone, sir?"

"Everyone. And, Cortana, lets give our old friend a warm welcome" Keyes replied as he narrowed his eyes and glared out the window of the bridge.

Cortana's holographic figure flickered to life on the projector next to the command screen. "I've already begun." She said, informing Keys of her preparations.

However, unknown to Keyes, even as he prepared to fight what he was certain would be their last battle in the far reaches of space, an entirely different set of events were unfolding in a far off galaxy that would bring two mighty Empire's into direct conflict. The results of which could spell untold desolation and destruction across the universe.

* * *

On the Imperial home world of Coruscant, the Empire reveled in its second greatest era of prosperity since its inception nearly four decades ago. Not since the initial rise of the Emperor had the Empire, or the denizens of the galaxy, experienced such a flourishing age of Imperial rule. In the eight years following the ravages of the civil war and the utter obliteration of the Rebellion at the final, decisive battle at Endor, the Empire moved to further secure its iron grip on the galaxy. Using the prior transgressions of the Rebellion to justify his actions, the Emperor, in a bid to prevent any future uprisings against his rule, levied heavy taxes and fees from Imperial citizens who were forced to pay royalties, under the penalty of death for failure to do so, to ruthless system Governors and Moffs loyal to the Imperial throne. The resulting influx of monetary gains paid by frightened citizens allowed for the Imperial military to reap immense benefits from the spoils of war. A little more than half of all galactic income due to taxes or other fees, was immediately transferred into researching new military technologies that were aimed at increasing the Imperial war machine to three times the operational capacity it possessed during its war with the Rebellion. The ranks of the Empire's vast legions of Stormtroopers swelled following rigorous Imperial propaganda campaigns that promised opportunity for advancement and personal glory to all those willing to swear unwavering loyalty to the Empire. And in return for their cooperation and compliance with Imperial military recruitment efforts, civilians who took on the role of enlisted soldiers were equipped with state of the art armor and weapons, as well as a salary that was more than double the original salary of an enlisted soldier during the civil war.

Imperial fleets were outfitted with newer, deadlier classes of Imperial dreadnoughts. Equipped with more powerful weapons and engines, the Imperial armada was ready at a moments notice to enforce the steel will of the Emperor both across their galaxy and to unknown worlds beyond. The second Death Star had been completed. Larger and deadlier than its predecessor, the station clearly defined the pinnacle of Imperial military achievement and reflected the Empire's intent in the universe. And it was with these weapons that the Empire began to set its sights on extra galactic worlds. In a quest for ever greater power and dominion, the Emperor sought to expand the Empire's boarders to include galaxies beyond. And he would use the Empire's new military might to impose this will upon the myriad of unsuspecting beings across the universe. And the man he placed at the helm of his ambitions was Fleet Admiral Davro.

Admiral Davro was a highly decorated and seasoned commander amid the ranks of the Imperial Navy with a family lineage steeped in Naval pride. However, long before he affected an impressive service record in the war against the Rebels, he began as little more than a child with a dream. A dream to follow in his father's footsteps. But, tragedy struck early in Davro's young life as his father was killed during a combat mission to end a Rebel uprising on Abregado Rea.

Undaunted by his father's demise and driven by a desire to avenge his death, Davro vowed to continue where his father had left off and was accepted into the Naval Academy's Officer training program at the age of sixteen. As his years passed at the Academy, the young officer easily adopted the Imperial doctrine and philosophy of total dominance over the galaxy in exchange for their unwavering loyalty to the Emperor. However, despite the ease of his acceptance of the Imperial philosophy, he usually tended to disagree with his instructors. Holding contempt for what he viewed to be "weakness" on their part whenever they gave him orders to cease further combat action or spare the lives of Rebel prisoners during the training simulators. He despised the Rebellion so, blaming them directly for what happened to his father, and always detested the order to spare their lives. In direct defiance of his tutors orders, Davro always had Rebel prisoners executed during training exercises and was fond of pushing soldiers to their limits, projecting his quest for personal perfection onto the men under his command by verbally berating and physically exhausting them. Additionally, he was not above sanctioning the use of capital punishment as a means of motivation for troopers. None the less, in spite of his constant friction with his teachers and ruthless performance, Davro proved to be an apt pupil, due to his continual drive for perfection, and quickly rose to the top of his class, graduating second after attaining the rank of Second Lieutenant.

Upon his graduation from the academy he continued his training in the field under Captain Piett, who edified the recent graduate on the practical application of what he had learned in the Academy.

However, his service under Piett would be interrupted following a brush with death when he was wounded in the right eye by shrapnel from a thermal detonator set off by a Rebel insurgent during an attack on an Imperial outpost on Byss. The result of the attack left him blind in the eye and imprinted a very noticeable scar that ran from his cheek to just above his eyebrow. Of course, the Lieutenant underwent surgery in an attempt to correct the blindness. But the operation ultimately failed, rendering his eye completely useless, succeeding only in discoloring it to a pale white pigment, save the pupil and a feint remnant of his pale blue iris. At first, doctors were willing to try replacing the eye, but Davro refused. Instead he kept his damaged eye, wearing it like a badge of honor and distinction as well as a permanent reminder to himself to never underestimate the treachery of others.

But, upon his recovery from his injuries, he was immediately placed back into service under Captain Piett aboard the newest Imperial warship, Executor where he would eventually receive a promotion to full Lieutenant following Piett's promotion in the place of the blundering Ozzel. Two years later, he would receive yet another promotion to Captain, a position which he would serve with distinction and loyalty for several years.

Now, a full ten years after the battle of Endor, Piett has been promoted to High Admiral, and upon his departure from his already lofty position, in an unprecedented gesture of respect and trust in the Captain, he relinquished the title of Fleet Admiral to Davro. The once young child, who had aspired to continue his father's legacy, now stands, unexpectedly, at the threshold of a new era for the Empire. Having achieved far more than he could have ever dreamed of and being charged by the Emperor to personally oversee the first Imperial expansion beyond the known galaxy, Davro felt an overwhelming pride in his task and had a firm sense that he had avenged his father's life ten fold. There was no doubt in his mind that if his father were alive to see the fruits of his son's labor, he would be bursting with pride beyond measure. And it was with these thoughts and feelings of pride and exuberance that Davro had pledged his unerring loyalty to the Emperor, promising that he would not fail, no matter what the cost.

"The Emperor is nearly ready to broadcast his planetary address, sir." Captain Sykes informed the Admiral as he approached his commander on the command bridge of Impend.

Sykes, though far from being a raw recruit from the Academy, was still a young officer, relatively inexperienced but still certain in both his position of power and abilities. And though he was a competent young Captain with vast untapped potential, Sykes, unlike Davro, had not seen action in the civil war to help foster his abilities. Instead, he was one of those who had joined the Imperial military right on the cusp of the Rebellion's defeat. When Admiral Davro discovered him and took him on as his protégé after making note of how much the young officer reminded him of himself at that age, one of the first things he remembered the cadet telling him was how he lamented over the fact that the very next day following his admittance into the training Academy, the war was over. It was like an instantaneous switch. One day, he's off to train for war, the next it's being reported all across the galaxy on the holonet that the war is over. It was that string of events that caused Sykes to become a bit too eager to engage in combat. In fact, when he first learned that he'd be traveling with the Admiral on an exploration mission to extra galactic worlds, he happily accepted the post with the hope that they'd experience something out there in the depths of space that wanted to put up a fight. Sykes would be all to happy to oblige them. And even though that drive and determination greatly impressed the Admiral, Davro still attempted to temper the Captain's bold nature by offering words of caution whenever Sykes started to act over eager in military situations. For the most part, Sykes listened, but the urge for combat still dwelled within him, waiting to be unleashed like a slumbering beast.

Davro had been silently watching the five other ships of the expedition fleet as they lingered effortlessly in orbit above Coruscant, his mind racing with both exhilaration and apprehension at the mission he would be called upon to execute in a matter of minutes, turned and addressed the Captain. "Isn't this ship magnificent?" He asked, stretching his arms wide in a gesture reflecting the grandeur of the Imperial cruiser.

Impend was just one of four brand new Imperial ship designs that were being groomed to eventually replace the aging Imperial class destroyers that still comprised the bulk of the Imperial fleets. Impend, though sharing the same wedge shaped design of its Imperial class brethren, was nearly twice the size of a standard Imperial Mk II destroyer. Measuring 3,100m in length and sporting a sleek, polished chrome colored hull, an aesthetic effect meant to reflect the prosperity and sovereignly of the Empire's rule, Impend boasted an impressive array of armaments that not only doubled, but overpowered, the weapon systems of the Mk II cruisers. Impend's hull bristled with more than sixteen Octuple barbette turbolaser cannons, ten concussion missile and torpedo tubes, forty ion cannon batteries as well as a further compliment of more than 120 turbolaser batteries defending the length of the imposing craft. In addition to the intimidating armory at Impend's disposal, upgraded shielding, in the form of a far stronger and more robust version of the original Kuat Drive Yards ISD-72x shield generator, eliminated the need for the two iconic dome shaped towers that capped the command decks on older Imperial ships. Now, Impend was entirely protected by a single, semi-circle shaped shield projector located on the ventral hull of the ship between the hanger and the four immense KDY Mk VI jump drive engines that propelled the craft and allowed it to attain faster than light travel for instantaneous deployment to any point within, or beyond, the galaxy at a moments notice.

Yet further improvements to the original Imperial Mk II cruiser design could be seen in the ships electronic war fare capabilities. Impend, unlike its Mk II counterparts, also fielded an interdictor jamming field generator for defense against capital ship grade torpedoes and missiles, long range sensor scramblers to mask its approach and an experimental prototype cloaking field that it could employ, lending the ship a deadly tactical advantage. And, as one might expect, the sheer size of the ship not only accommodated twice the crew, military personnel and material of older ships, but the increased dimensions of the ship's design allowed for a larger interior hanger that could house and launch nearly double the standard number of TIE's, men, equipment and material that a standard Imperial class cruiser was capable of. The ship was also equipped with four powerful gravity well generators, positioned around the shield generator beneath the ship, in place of the phylon Q7 tractor beam generators that had been so popular on the Mk II's. By all counts, Impend represented the finest achievement in the Imperial navy since the introduction of the Super Star Destroyer class and was to be the flagship of Imperial proliferation through out the universe.

"Indeed it is, sir." Sykes agreed. "It must be a great honor to have been chosen by the Emperor himself to head this expedition with the newest ship in the fleet."

"That it is." Davro pridefully stated as he nodded.

"With your command and Impend at the apex of the Imperial advance through the universe, nothing can stop us." Sykes confidently added, praising the Admiral as he grinned with excitement for their coming journey.

Davro nodded before he cautioned his compatriot. "Perhaps you are correct. But you must bear in mind that we will soon be venturing into the unknown. We cannot even begin to predict what we might find beyond the boarders of the Empire. We must prepare ourselves for as many possible scenarios as is humanly possible to prepare for." He stated, folding his arms across his chest as he turned his gaze back to the vast universe before them.

Sykes, in an attempt to bolster his position and get Davro to set aside his anxieties, however small they were, walked up on the Admiral's left and fixed his eyes on the great beyond as well before again asserting his belief that the Empire was the ultimate power in the universe. "Even if we do find something unpredictable out there, sir, with the second Death Star fully operational, any effort made against the Empire would be one in futility." He boldly stated as he looked at Davro.

The Admiral chuckled to himself, finding the Captain's confidence and conviction to be a welcomed, and somewhat amusing, asset to his post. Turning his attention to the young officer, Davro placed a hand on Sykes' shoulder and cracked a feint smile. "I admire your spirit, boy. But you still have much to learn." He stated, patting the Captain's shoulder before he returned his thoughts to their current task. "Come, we should prepare for the address. We wouldn't want to keep the Emperor waiting."

Sykes nodded and followed the Admiral off the bridge to prepare to travel to the Imperial Palace where Davro was to take part in a christening ceremony that would officially launch the Empire's goals for extra galactic domination.

* * *

"Attention, combat positions Alpha through Sierra, sensors show inbound Covenant boarding craft. Stand by to repel boarders." Cortana warned over the ships comm system, alerting the Autumn's marine force to their imminent re-engagement with the enemy.

"Alright, fall in troops! On the double!" Second Lieutenant James Shade ordered the rest of his squad.

Immediately the group of twelve marines that were with him formed up in the passageway outside escape pod air locks 41 - 43 on port deck eleven, ready to defend their ground with their commanding officer.

James had served as the ranking officer of Fifth Platoon for four years now following his own promotion from Sergeant First Class upon the recommendations of his prior commander, Second Lieutenant Hart, before Hart's eventual transfer to a different unit. But it was a commission that Shade was not entirely ready to take on alone, and in the preceding four years commanding marines against the Covenant, he had lost a combined total of 56 men and women to the enemy, almost double his command. Initially, the losses had little effect on him. He was a though soldier with a rough and tumble "do or die" attitude who had been presented multiple opportunities by Hart to lead soldiers in previous engagements to prepare him for an eventual promotion to platoon leader. And, as was indicative of his personality, he eagerly accepted every command with great enthusiasm and had, subsequently, experienced his fair share of loss during those early trials. But his promotion to Lieutenant did not act itself out as smoothly as he thought it would.

As the struggle against the Covenant raged and the death toll among the marines of his command mounted, their losses doing seemingly little to halt the inexorable alien advance as they devastated colony after colony in spite of the UNSC's best efforts, he began to doubt himself and lose faith in their cause, wonder what it was all for. He began to sink deeper and deeper into a world of depression from which there seemed no escape.

But that was before Sergeant First Class Erin Briggs was assigned to his command. She did for him in a matter of months what two and a half years of therapy, medication and psychological evaluation had failed to. Gradually, she broke through the fog of guilt and doubt that he had allowed himself to become entrapped in. She managed to free him of his guilt and self loathing by making him see that the deaths of 56 marines were not frivolous wastes, but necessary and heroic sacrifices that, though tragic, ultimately served the higher purpose of protecting the billions of innocents on Earth from the Covenant. Though he couldn't tell if it was actually her words that got him to believe that, or if he was just so desperate to leave his negative emotions behind that he'd believe anything. Regardless of the reasons, within a few months of her firm, yet compassionate counsel, James regained his spirits. No longer did he have the crippling self doubt or guilt that once burdened him. Instead of living with a continual cloud of dread and anxiety over him, he felt re-invigorated and carried with him once again a clear sense of duty and honor in his work. Erin had managed to reach him on the brink of psychosis and pull him away before it was too late. And for that she had his immeasurable gratitude.

"This is the same old song and dance people. Our objective is to hold this ship, keep the Covenant at bay for as long as possible until the Ops personnel can evacuate. We _will_ keep these lifeboats clear so that can happen. You will all hold your ground until myself or Sergeant Briggs order otherwise. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!!" The group resoundingly replied in one voice.

James nodded. "Right. Sergeant Briggs."

"Sir?"

"Take Skip, Lauren, Chips and Ryan. Cover the left approach. Hold out as best you can. Do not, I repeat, _do not _allow the enemy to get past you. Seal the blast doors if you have to."

"Understood." Briggs complied.

"Sir, what about the Ops personnel? Wouldn't we be trapping them?" Ryan asked in concern.

"If we need to seal the blast doors, we can re-route survivors to this point through the maintenance access ways." James stated, pointing his attention to the small grated door in the middle of the wall behind him.

Shortly after James' assurance that they could still accomplish their objective even if they had to box themselves in, Sergeant Briggs began leading the four marines away from the group.

But, just as the Lieutenant was preparing to issue further orders to the others, Private Sam Edwards stepped forward and made a request. "Sir, permission to join the Sergeant."

James, clearly pre-occupied with more immediate concerns, granted his request. "Go.".

Edwards quickly broke from the group to catch up with Sergeant Briggs and her squad.

Turning his attention back to his remaining soldiers, Lieutenant Shade finished dividing his assets among defense points near the lifeboat bays. "Walker, Peyton, Valdez, you three stay here, guard these pods. Let us know if anything tries getting in behind us."

Peyton nodded and replied for the three of them. "Yes, sir."

"Stark, Black, Helms, you're with me." James finished, leading the last three troopers away from the air locks. While on route to his defensive combat station, he contacted Corporal Parks on his comm. "How's it going, Parks?" He asked, requesting a status report. He didn't have to wait long before his comm crackled with a burst of static.

"So far things are holding. We've only got two wounded right now. The Covies aren't moving in force yet. I think they're probing our position trying to find a weak point. I keep shifting troops to make them think there are more of us than there actually are." Parks responded.

"Keep it up Corporal. Hold your line as best you can. Report in as needed."

"Will do, sir." Was Parks last transmission before the link went silent.

All of the pieces were in place, Lieutenant Shade had made his first moves. Now all they could do was wait for the Covenant to make theirs and hope that they could live long enough to make it off of the ship.


	2. Perilous Journey

Alright, sorry it took me so long to upload the second chapter. I don't plan on being as long with future additions. As a brief word of warning on this one, I proceeded without it being beta read. I did proof read it myself, though, and tried to fix as many errors as possible. At any rate, I hope you like it. Reviews obviously welcome.

* * *

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 2

Perilous Journey

Davro stood at the large circular window at the front of the Imperial palace in his ceremonial white uniform, his hands clasped behind his back, as he stared out over the main plaza in front of the imposing building that sheltered the very heart of Imperial rule. He watched as tens of thousands of Imperial citizens celebrated and rejoiced at the imminent approach of the hour that would soon launch the Empire into the vast universe beyond. Even at his distance from the top of the palace, far from the crowded mob of people, he could tell that their excitement easily matched their numbers. Confetti filled the air like snow and their muffled cheers could be heard, resonating as one voice, as they clamored about in the plaza like a buzzing colony of insects.

A satisfied smirk crept onto Davro's lips as he watched the fanfare continue, its momentum seemingly limitless. He rather enjoyed the thought that the eyes of the galaxy were looking to him, trusting in him, to guide the Empire's first steps into the unknown. The optimistic energy emanating from the celebrating congregation below seemed to waft up to his lofty position like an electrical current, invigorating his body and mind, crushing his anxieties and fears by bolstering his already swollen pride.

But his attention was soon drawn away from the revelry as Captain Sykes' voice called out to him from the doorway at his back.

"Sir, the ceremony is ready to commence. The Emperor is requesting your presence on the balcony."

Davro acknowledged the Captain's presence by glancing over his right shoulder and peering at him from the corner of his eye. "Thank you, Captain." He said, mildly irritated by the interruption.

Sykes, detecting the agitation in the Admiral's tone, silently bowed his head and left the room.

Turning his attention back to the jubilation outside, the crowd was suddenly having a reverse effect on Davro. Before Sykes broke his concentration, the mob was empowering him, giving him a second breath of vitality and confidence that swept away his apprehensions and fears. Now they were beginning to creep back as the thought of failing thousands of people's trust in him started to take hold once more. Should he fail, the thought that thousands of cheers could easily change to thousands of curses was an all too real concept to him. Doing his best to push the exasperating thoughts from his mind, he shifted his jaw and exhaled sharply before he regained his fortitude and left the room to face the cheering masses.

* * *

"Steady, steady." James calmly repeated to the men under his command as they all focused their sights on a glowing point of light burning at the center of the blast door in front of them.

Anxiety crept through the small group of marines like a sinister parasite bent on consuming each and every one of them as the Covenant boarders on the other side of the door prepared to blast their way through into the hallway.

James gripped his rifle tightly in his hands as his pulse raced. He fought to calm his breathing and hold his nerves steady to ensure that his aim would be true. His mouth felt dry and his heart seemed to be beating out a deafening rhythm in his head as beads of sweat formed on his brow and palms. His knees felt weak, almost as if they could give out at any second.

Yet, in spite of all of the physical maladies assailing him, the adrenaline coursing through his veins negated his conscious recognition of his anxieties. Instead, it gave rise in him to an unparalleled sensation of invulnerability and awareness. James felt connected to every one and everything in the room. He could read the faces and actions of his men with exceptional clarity as they waited at his side for the coming maelstrom. His rifle felt as if though it was not a tool, but an extension of his person. The adrenaline was slowly, but surely, altering his mental state. In place of his trepidations was fearless intrepidity and an almost warrior like spirit that may have rivaled that of even the most experienced Sangheili warriors as he welcomed the coming battle as equally as his lungs welcomed his next breath of air.

Suddenly, the glowing point on the door began to burn brighter and brighter as sparks flared out from the origin point of the intense heat. James narrowed his vision, swallowed hard and began applying gentle pressure to his weapon's trigger as he prepared for the inevitable.

Seconds later, the door was peeled apart as a loud explosion ripped through it, resonating through out the hallway in an obnoxious cacophony of deafening noise accompanied by a lethal shower of heated shrapnel that was violently ejected forward from the blast point as the hallway was choked with smoke.

James and his men shielded themselves from the debris by taking cover behind their blockade.

Immediately following the explosion, Covenant soldiers poured through the gaping hole, emerging through the veil of smoke from the hallway beyond. They instantly opened fire, sending a deadly wave of plasma bolts towards the marines.

James reacted. Standing back to his position, he grit his teeth and screamed in a raging fury as he brought his rifle to eye level and squeezed the trigger, unleashing a barrage of lead on the nearest Covenant troopers, successfully killing two unsuspecting grunts with relative ease as plasma rounds whizzed by, mere inches from his head. "Hold!" He shouted to his marines as they returned fire with a ferocity equal to his.

* * *

On Coruscant, Davro had gathered with some Imperial dignitaries, and other high ranking political and military officials, on the balcony at the front of the palace overlooking the plaza and its reveler's below. Chief among them was none other than High Admiral Piett himself. The man to whom Davro owed practically his entire military career to. As they awaited the arrival of the Emperor, the two were discussing Davro's recent assignment.

"So, how does it feel?" Piett asked, a certain measure of pride for Davro in his voice.

"It's indescribable, sir." He answered, hinting at the obvious cocktail of emotions he has been experiencing for the last few hours.

"I can only imagine." Piett replied, sympathetic to his former pupil's situation. "Just remember, when you're out there, you are a representative of the Empire. We're seeking to integrate other galaxies into our control. And combat shouldn't be the first tool you reach for. Remember what I've taught you and you should fare just fine. It is easier to offer peace with an open palm than it is with a closed fist."

Davro smiled and chuckled at Piett's last sentence. "Since when did you become a philosopher?" He jokingly asked.

"Oh, it's not philosophy, it's simple political sense." Piett calmly corrected Davro. "Think about it. Would you be inclined to join someone who will only choose to have a relationship with you, so long as you submit to them and play servant?"

The joy suddenly vanished from Davro's demeanor as he quickly looked away from Piett towards the crowd.

The subject of politics had always been a point of contention between the two of them. Although Piett was a loyal and intelligent leader whom Davro deeply respected, he often lacked the mettle required to fully embrace the political ideals of the Empire. It was a point of weakness that he had always seen in his superior, but never felt inclined to denounce him for it as it never appeared to get in the way of his duty.

"Some people need to be told what to do. Look at what happens when you allow everyone to have a say in politics. You get an inefficient, squabbling body of elected officials who fail in their purpose. Democracy, at its very core, is rife with failure and disagreement because it lacks a strong central leader that can take control of crises before they pose a threat." Davro matter of factly stated, holding his convictions with great incompliency towards the idea of a Democratic regime.

"But at least people have a say." Piett rebutted, trying to convince Davro that blasting his way across the universe was not the wisest of ways to go about taking such an important first step.

"With all due respects, sir, I would rather not talk about this. I've a very important mission on the horizon and I cannot cloud my mind with trivial arguments." Davro replied, trying to diffuse the situation so as not to confuse his mind with unnecessary trifles.

Piett didn't reply. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and joined Davro's gaze on the crowd.

From Davro's new location, the celebration's seemed to be magnified many times over now. Whereas the sounds of exultation were forced to fight their way to him before inside the palace, his senses were easily, and continuously, flooded by the resounding, unending sounds of overjoyed and ecstatic citizens. Camera droids flitted about in front of and around the balcony, broadcasting an up close view of the location across the entire planet on every available viewscreen, in anticipation of the Emperor's arrival.

They did not have to wait long before State Pestage, one of the Emperor's closest advisors, walked out onto the balcony. The crowd suddenly fell eerily silent before he announced the approach of the Galactic Emperor himself. "All hail his royal majesty, Emperor Palpatine!" He commanded the masses, his voice amplified by several decibels as it echoed over the crowd.

Instantly, Davro and the others, along with the entire congregation of citizens, dropped to a kneeling position and bowed their heads, humbling themselves in the presence of their sovereign leader, as he strode purposefully onto the balcony with an air of great aplomb and self indulgence surrounding him.

A smirk of self satisfaction formed on the Emperor's pale, almost ghostly, countenance as he gazed upon his legions of subjects. He allowed himself to bask in this moment for a few seconds before he began his address.

"We stand on the threshold of a new era of Imperial rule." He began, the self absorption far from removed from his words, as Davro and the others rose to their feet. "An era of unprecedented discovery and expansion that I shall foster into an era of peace, security and wealth the likes of which the universe has never seen before."

* * *

"Get your ass back on the line!" James sternly commanded as he grabbed Private Stark by the back of his armored vest and pulled him back to the skirmish line before he could flee from battle.

Stark lost his footing and stumbled to the floor, where he quickly huddled behind the barricade.

"Don't give 'em any ground!" James firmly shouted to his men as he took aim on the crimson armored elite Major commanding the attack against his position.

He squeezed the trigger on his rifle and released a hail of bullets on the Sangheili commander. As was expected, the warrior's body shield reflected the rounds away harmlessly with an audible ping. Of course, all this managed to accomplish was angering the elite, who quickly turned on the Lieutenant and replied with his plasma rifle.

James ducked for cover as he ejected his spent clip and slammed a fresh one home before giving the bolt at the rear of the gun a hard jolt to chamber the first round. He took one look at Private Stark, who was hugging his knees close to his chest, his eyes dilated in fear at the Covenant assault. Collecting Stark's rifle from the floor, James shoved it into his arms and gave him a strict order. "Fire your weapon!"

Stark just looked at James in shock, unresponsive to his commander's sharp demands.

James sneered with contempt for the craven soldier before he ignored him and returned to the battle. As he stood from cover, he again eyed the Covenant Major and fired. His rounds, as before, had little effect, until Private Black joined in the attack. Together, they fired mercilessly on the imposing warrior before he turned and fired on Black, who was immediately hit in the chest with a searing hot bolt of cyan plasma.

Lieutenant Shade watched as the helpless marine screamed in agony and tumbled back from the barricade and collapsed in a lifeless heap on the floor, a hole burned in his chest. Angered by the loss of a fellow solider, James let lose a shower of bullets upon the elite, which finally managed to penetrate the alien's shield. His protective shield dissipated by the furious assault, the next few bullets made contact with flesh and bone.

The elite reeled back, his hand on his abdomen. Enraged by the marine's persistence, the Sangheili Major glared at the Lieutenant, flexed his mandibles wide open and uttered a deep scornful growl before he channeled all of his rage into a final assault. Running on pure adrenaline, he charged straight at the human position, firing his rifle in long sustained bursts.

James and Private Helms focused their fire on the elite, desperately trying to bring him down before he could reach their location as plasma rounds zipped by them. But the elite charged forward, seemingly unaffected by their efforts, closing the distance at an incredible pace.

Upon reaching the human's defenses, the elite ceased firing his weapon and instead vaulted over the obstacles in his path and into the midst of the marine's. Private Stark, petrified by the up close encounter with the elite, attempted to scurry away from the barricade, but was quickly shot in the back by the Major. Stark collapsed mere inches from his original location as the plasma round seared through his back, into his heart and finally out of his chest, killing him instantly before he could even scream.

James, stunned by the elite's stamina, attempted to bring the muzzle of his rifle to bear on the Covenant soldier. But the close quarters put him at a great disadvantage and the elite reacted faster, delivering a swift punch to his chest, just below his throat, choking him of breath and easily knocking him from his feet.

Helms, retaliated and fired a burst of lead into the back of the Major before his gun jammed at the most inopportune time. The elite turned on him and stared him straight in the eye as he struggled with his inoperable weapon. "Come on!" He frantically shouted at the cursed gun as he tried to unlock the bolt and free up the chamber, but to no avail. Helms soon felt a constricting pressure on his wind pipe as he was picked up by his throat and lifted from the ground by the elite warrior.

The elite regarded the terrified marine for a second, cocking his head slightly to the right as the human wrapped its hands around his wrist and gasped for air. The Sangheili shifted his mandibles and formed a clear, albeit awkward sounding, sentence in English. "Pathetic creature." He spat at the insignificant human in his grasp before he exerted an excessive amount of strength in hurling Private Helms away from him.

Helms landed on his back a few feet in front of the elite. Placing a hand on his throat, he coughed before sucking in a few deep breaths as the elite bore down on him. He reached for his side arm, but was stunned when the grip of his pistol was absent from its holster. Unarmed against the Covenant soldier, he watched helplessly as the alien loomed over him for a second before firmly planting his cloven foot on his chest. The elite applied a continuous pressure, that felt as if though it would crush his rib cage, as it took aim with its rifle. Helms closed his eyes tight and steeled himself for what was about to happen when four successive shots rang out from behind the alien soldier. His eyes snapped open at the same time the pressure on his chest unexpectedly let up. He looked up just in time to see the elite Major fall to his left and land on the floor, dead from four gunshot wounds to the back, neck and head. Helms breathed a sigh of relief as James was the next person to enter his vision.

James extended a hand to Helms and helped him back to his feet. "You alright?" He asked.

"Good, sir." Helms replied, still trying to catch his breath.

Suddenly, James' comm snapped to life as a frantic message came over the mic.

"Sir, we're being overrun, we can't hold out! Casualties are at 50 and climbing!" Corporal Parks informed the Lieutenant, his voice clearly distressed by events in his sector.

"Pull back to secondary positions!" James quickly ordered.

But no sooner had he given his own commands to pull back, than Captain Keyes' voice came over the intercom and announced a general order to all combat teams. "All combat personnel, fall back to secondary defensive positions."

James, realizing that he lacked the man power to defend his second line alone, thanks to the Covenant, immediately contacted Walker on his radio. "Private Walker, come in." Only a few seconds passed before the link crackled with static and Walker's voice came through.

"Go ahead, sir."

"Move up to the secondary defense point. Be ready to reinforce us."

"But, sir, I thought..."

"Just do it." James adamantly restated.

"Yes, sir." Walker obliged before ending the transmission.

James turned to Helms. "Where's your rifle?" He asked.

"It jammed and I dropped it by the barricade."

"Go get a new one." James instructed him, hinting that he should take one of the guns from their fallen comrades.

Helms quickly followed orders and retrieved a new rifle.

"Good. Now let's move out."

* * *

Meanwhile, back in orbit above Coruscant, Admiral Davro had since returned to Impend following the completion of the ceremony at the palace. All that remained now between the Empire and the vast universe beyond was a few mere numerical inputs into the ship's navigation system.

"Captain Sykes. Signal the fleet, prepare to make the jump to hyperspace on my mark." Davro calmly relayed his orders.

"At once, sir." Sykes eagerly complied before setting off to hail the fleet.

Davro stood, gazing in the stars beyond. Soon the Empire would be visiting alien world somewhere in the sprawling reaches of space. What could they find there? Davro wasn't sure, no one was. But the feeling was one of exhilaration and dread. It was definitely exciting to be considered the vanguard on the forefront of such a major expansion. But at the same time, it was a terrifying prospect to be the ones chosen to make contact with the vast unexplored universe.

Sykes returned to the Admiral and informed him that the preparations were complete. "We are ready to move on your command, sir." He said with anticipation.

"Excellent. Take us out." Davro stated.

Within seconds, the engines of every ship in the fleet glowed a brilliant blue before the six Imperial vessels vanished from sight, hurtling through time and space towards an unfamiliar horizon.


	3. Arrival

Okay, as a forethought on this chapter, I did some heavy research before writing it to try and paint the most realistic encounter between the Empire and Covenant as possible. To all of you Halo/Star Wars buffs who probably know more about both of these things than I do, I welcome any constructive criticism you can offer. Now, stop reading my note and start reading the chapter you slacker!!

* * *

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 3

Arrival

Aboard the CCS Battlecruiser, Tempest of Clarity, Shipmaster Sola 'Vitokree stood on the raised command deck scanning the large holographic banner suspended before him in front of the control center with a highly critical eye, his guilded armor clearly distinguishing him from the other elite crew members present. The banner was scrolling with all manner of Covenant text. Everything from the ship's internal operations, to the status of the battle outside, to even the location of the "holy ring" were observed under the intense scrutiny of the Shipmaster.

Sola had served as Shipmaster of the Tempest of Clarity with the Fleet of Particular Justice since the beginning of the war against the humans. As was true with all Sangheili, he was raised in a warrior culture and reveled in battle. If air gave him life, then combat gave meaning to that life. He was a cunning tactician and a brilliant strategist with a military record of modest repute amongst the Covenant fleets. But, as of late, he found himself languishing in a land of ineptitude. He found the Earth based UNSC to be a foe unworthy of his skills. At the onset of the war, he had high hopes for the humans as a race that might be able to test his strength in battle. As time dragged on, however, and the Covenant armada advanced, seemingly unabated by even the most staunch of human defenses, he lost faith in the humans fighting abilities and began to form a deep seated hatred for them. A hatred that transformed itself into a genocidal desire, equaled by only that of the Prophets themselves, to see the human race extinguished. He viewed them as an insult to his people's warrior culture and only fought them to see them eradicated so they could never again present such a contemptuous affront to he or his people.

'Vitokree's eyes were filled with disdain as he watched the screens in the command center. It was all he could really do at the moment. Shortly after the fleet engaged the lone human vessel, the Prophet counselor with the fleet ordered all ships to hold their fire out of fear that they might damage the "sacred ring". Instead he had ordered boarding parties to be sent to the UNSC ship to destroy it from the inside out. Needless to say, Sola personally detested the order. He would much rather command his ship to simply blast the pathetic craft to oblivion and be done with it, damn the consequences it might have for the ring.

Unlike most other members of the Covenant, Sola was not as enthralled by Forerunner artifacts or the religion the Prophets had built around them. He certainly believed that they belonged to a once powerful race, and even "worshiped" them on a superficial level, just to appease the Prophets. Truthfully, though, he never embraced the religion that the Prophets had created to honor the Forerunners. He wagered that Gods should be omnipotent and that the lack of Forerunner's did not point to the Prophet's highly touted "transcendence", but rather extinction. He felt that if the Forerunner's were to teach them anything from the "divine beyond", it would be how not to repeat their mistakes, not how to join them.

"_What a pitiful battle" _He thought to himself. _"Were it not for the Prophets and their pious devotion to this relic, I would gladly incinerate the human craft whole." _

As he internally entertained the fantasy of destroying the humans in a glorious spectacle, one of his flight control officers blurted a surprised report.

"Shipmaster, we have approach vectors from multiple unidentified craft entering the system."

'Vitokree snapped to attention, his eyes flashed with great expectancy as he demanded the command screen to be brought up so he could view these new intruders. "Show me."

Instantly, the holographic screens in front of the command deck displayed the space outside the Tempest. To everyone's great surprise, against the words of the flight officer, there was nothing there.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Sola barked authoritatively, his question pointed as if though he felt he had just been made the victim of a cruel joke by his own crew.

But no sooner had he asserted his acerbic inquiry than a strange craft appeared on the screen, emerging from the darkness and occupying a large venue of space. The long dagger shaped ship was completely and utterly foreign to his knowledge and perception as the sunlight glinted off of its finely polished chrome colored hull, lending the alien vessel a graceful quality as it suspended itself effortlessly in the vacuum. The ship was double the size of the Tempest and the other CCS class cruisers in the fleet, easily approaching dimensions close to that of a Reverence Class Carrier.

"By the Prophets, what kind of ship is that?" 'Vitokree asked, suitably perplexed by the appearance of the foreign cruiser.

* * *

Aboard the bridge of the Victory II Star Destroyer, Basilisk, Captain Venka received word from his own flight officer that they were nearing their destination.

"Sir, we're nearing our target co-ordinates."

Venka nodded. "Decelerate, bring us out."

"Sir."

As the ship exited lightspeed and slowed its velocity, causing the stars before them to suddenly transform from a white blur back to individual pin points of distant light, something materialized at the bow of the destroyer, something unexpected.

Venka's eyes widened in horror as he saw what was about to happen. "Take evasive action!!" He stated in a frenetic tone.

The flight crew promptly sprung into action, working feverishly to steer the ship away from its collision course with an alien ship. But their efforts were in vain as their cruiser had not had time to completely slow from its initial light speed velocity, thereby retaining a sizable amount of its prior momentum. The effects of which were soon realized as a massive plume of orange and blue flame erupted when the Victory II cruiser slammed head long into the side of a Covenant Battlecruiser, instantaneously destroying the two unsuspecting ships and their unfortunate crews.

* * *

"By the Gods..." One of the flight officers on the Tempest muttered to himself as he witnessed the two ships incinerate each other.

'Vitokree watched on, speechless, his mind immediately struck by the sight of the demise of the two craft, when four smaller spear head shaped cruisers suddenly materialized out of the black void and took up residence near the largest ship that first appeared.

Even though he didn't need to be told, a flight officer informed Sola of the arrival of the other mysterious naval vessels. "Shipmaster, more craft approaching!"

"What would you have us do?!" One of the fire control operators urgently asked his leader.

Sola focused his mind on the scenario before him an instantly verbalized a command to his crew. "Prepare the ship for combat and send the intruders a demand for surrender."

Within seconds of his order, the crew in the control center set about following the Shipmaster's demands.

"If they do not comply, we shall burn their fleet." 'Vitokree added, his voice filled with a mixture of malice and anticipation as he clenched his fist tight, the prospect of combat with a new, and potentially challenging adversary, revitalizing his body and spirit alike. "_Finally, another foe._" He thought to himself with elation. "_Perhaps you will prove to be more worthy of my prowess._"

* * *

Davro viewed the fiery end to Basilisk from his distant position aboard Impend's command deck, and the first emotions to traverse his mind following the collision was one of fear. Fear for that fact that the alien fleet before them might interpret the accident as a hostile act and would turn on them. In response to his disquieting thoughts, he ordered his ship to go to combat ready status.

"Shields up! Intensify all forward batteries! Order all ships to move to combat alert status and hold fire unless fired upon!"

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the opposing fleet!" The crew chief shortly interjected from one of the crew pits after the Admiral's orders.

"What does it say?"

The crew chief scanned the console in front of him before shaking his head in utter confusion. "I have no idea, sir. This language doesn't exist in our database."

The Admiral felt a surge of extreme uneasiness overtake his senses as his blood ran cold. His skin felt clammy and breathing felt as if though it was becoming something of a chore for him. His heart raced, feeling like an perpetual series of increasingly powerful blows from a tightly balled fist that felt as if though it was going to punch itself through his chest like a thin piece of cloth.

Not only had they accidentally destroyed one of the alien ships, but worse yet was the fact that they had no way of communicating with them to inform them that the accident was exactly that and not an act of war. He turned his attention back to the collection of strange ships outside and watched as four of them began to break away from the battle group to meet them, while the others ignored the events taking place and laid siege to another lone, but equally unidentifiable, ship in the orbit above the nearby planet and its strange ring shaped satellite which loomed in the near distance to the right of Impend.

Davro's perceptions were being bombarded by so many new concepts that it was impossible to focus on, let alone comprehend, any single one of them. And just when he thought that events were on the verge of taking a drastic turn for the worse, his pessimistic appraisal of the situation was proven correct, much to his chagrin, when the crew chief shouted a perturbing alarm across the bridge.

"Sir, energy spike from the enemy fleet!"

Davro felt a physical illness wash over him as the crew chief's words shot to his ears like needles before he shifted his eyes and focused on the nearest Battlecruiser as it began close distance with the Victory II Destroyer, Corruptor, at a phenomenal speed.

* * *

"Weapons ready, enemy ship in range. Awaiting your orders, Shipmaster." The fire control officer informed Sola.

"Fire all torpedoes, obliterate their fleet!" He answered, a clear sense of satisfaction woven into his words.

The fire control officer silently abides his commander's orders with a few dexterous finger taps to the holographic control panel in front of him. His simple hand movements instantly gave rise to several plasma torpedoes as they were launched from the bow of the Battlecruiser on a direct course for one of the Imperial ships.

'Vitokree crossed his arms as he monitored the path of his ship's first salvo, a profusion of eager anticipation rising within him. In just a few short seconds, he would be fully engaged in combat with a new enemy. One that he hoped, with all his being, would finally prove to be deserving of the full compliment of his skills.

* * *

Davro observed in horror, powerless to reverse the events that were now transpiring, as four bright blue projectiles streaked towards Corruptor.

The missiles made contact with the Destroyer and temporarily obscured the ship from view behind a series of blue vapor plumes that ignited from the bow to the command bridge as the torpedoes exploded on impact.

The Admiral, as well as Captain Sykes and the rest of the command crew on Impend, waited with bated breath for the clouds to clear from Corruptor. Seconds seemed like hours before the ship again became fully visible to them. As the Star Destroyer came back into full view, it appeared to have sustained no damage from the initial assault. A cheer rose up on the bridge of Impend as Corruptor took the enemy attack and replied by unleashing its own volley of turbo laser's upon the attacking ship.

Now empowered by the sight of Corruptor's resilience, Davro was flooded with a sense of unabashed certitude, which he allowed to physically manifest itself in the form of a malevolent smirk as he gave the order for all of the ships in his command to engage the enemy fleet at will. If they sought to oppose the Empire, then let it be the last mistake they ever make.

"All ships, fire at will. Eradicate these pests in the name of the Emperor!"

On his command, every ship in the fleet selected a target and let loose a blazing sea of turbo laser fire on the advancing Covenant Battlecruisers.

Within a matter of minutes, the normally placid, calm vacuum of space had been transformed into an apocalyptic war zone, set ablaze by Imperial and Covenant ships alike as they opened fire on each other with unbound fury.

* * *

Aboard the Autumn, the situation was deteriorating quickly as James and what remained of the troops in his platoon, unaware of the events taking place outside their crippled vessel, had been pushed back to their tertiary defense points. The only thing standing between the Covenant and complete control of port deck eleven was a small band of ten battle weary marines who were fighting fiercely to hold the escape pod bays long enough to allow for the Ops personnel to evacuate the doomed ship.

"Seal those doors! Move, move!" Sergeant Briggs sternly ordered as she and her troops were forced back by the advancing Covenant onslaught.

Ryan reached for the control panel on the wall next to the door, trying to activate the emergency lock mechanism before he cleared the threshold into the next section of hallway. But as he did, an elite minor took aim on him with his rifle and blasted a hole in his left shoulder. The round bore its way through flesh and bone before exiting just below his left clavicle and impacting the door controls, frying them. Ryan dropped his gun and lurched forward, screaming out in severe pain, as he instinctively reached for the wound with his right hand and sought cover behind the wall on the other side of the doorway.

"Corpsman!!" He painfully managed over the battle as the searing pain in his shoulder gave rise to a sick feeling in his gut.

Erin, seeing what had happened to Ryan, caught the attention of the platoon corpsman, Cole "Skip" Winters, who was momentarily attending to a minor plasma burn on Chips' left forearm. "Skip! Ryan's hit!"

Skip looked to see the wounded marine sitting against the wall, clutching his injured shoulder. Turning back to Private Dubbo, he made sure he was properly taken care of. "Just keep this on it." He instructed him as he finished dressing the burn with a self-adhering antiseptic bandage.

"You just worry about him, mate. I got this." Chips answered, his Australian accent surprisingly calm and collected given their situation.

Cole left Dubbo behind to attend to Ryan's wounds.

"Cover that doorway!" Briggs ordered her squad mates as Winters rushed ahead to aid their injured comrade.

Skip arrived at Ryan's side as a menagerie of green and blue plasma bolts filled the air and whirred by them towards their squad, who were fighting valiantly to hold off the enemy long enough to allow time for everyone to vacate back to the air locks.

"Keep still." Cole tried to calm Ryan as the pain lanced through his shoulder, causing him to squirm in agony, as Winters examined the marine's traumatism.

The wound was a mess, despite having been cauterized by the heat of the plasma, and would require the use of biofoam to properly heal and stabilize all of the internal and external tissue damage that had been caused until Ryan could be provided with a more substantial treatment. It would certainly be an unpleasant experience for the quickly fatiguing soldier, as the effects of biofoam have been likened to thousands of burning ants crawling on the wound. It would, undoubtedly, add to his already extreme discomfort. But, given their situation, there was little choice.

"Alright, come on." Skip said as he hoisted the weakened marine to his feet and supported him on his own shoulder and began carrying him back to the squad.

On their way back, however, the elite that had originally wounded Ryan took aim and, in a show of merciless contempt for the humans, deliberately fired on the suffering marine again, striking him in the lower right abdomen, just above the waist.

The wad of super heated plasma easily penetrated the hapless Private, wounding him further as he groaned in anguish before he faltered and went limp on Cole's shoulder.

Cole strained to support his team mate, but the sudden introduction of Ryan's full body weight onto his shoulder caught the corpsman of guard and he staggered forward before falling to his knees, dropping his traumatized companion in the process.

Erin witnessed as the struggling pair fell prey to the pitiless Covenant assault. "_They're not going to make it._" she thought inwardly. But she was determined to do her best to keep as many of her soldiers alive as possible. Without even giving a command to the others, she vaulted over the barricade and sprinted head long at the marines, firing her rifle in short, suppressive bursts at the Covenant behind them.

Winters was trying to regain his composure when Sergeant Briggs arrived and got on Ryan's left, wrapping her arm around his torso, doing her best not to apply too much pressure as she helped Skip drag the barely conscious leatherneck back to the relative safety of the squads location as they provided cover fire.

As Cole and Briggs gently placed Ryan's languid body on the floor, he managed a tremulous sentence. "You can't stop them. The controls are gone." He stated as his visage took on a pale, grave appearance as another pulse of agony shot through his tortured person, causing him to grimace in misery.

"You'll be fine. Skip's gonna take care of you." Erin tried to assure him before glancing at Cole, his eyes reflecting a clear despondence as he shook his head ever so slightly to indicate Ryan's failing health. The mortal prognosis of her fellow soldier effected her deeply as she closed her eyes and shook her head somberly, cursing under her breath. "_Dammit." _

Ryan coughed up a bit of blood, his physical state rapidly decaying, before he turned to Briggs and gave her a request. "Give me your grenades." He weakly implored her.

Erin was understandably puzzled by his odd demand. "No, you're getting delirious..." She began, denying his entreaty.

"The door controls are gone. The only way to close them is to set off an explosion, trig..." A deep, angst ridden cough accompanied by more blood interrupted him mid sentence before he settled back down as Skip administered a dose of polysudeomorphine to deaden his burning nerves. "We need to trigger the override. Only way to do that is with a big bang." He finished, hinting towards the suicide mission he had planned for himself.

At first, Erin was going to again deny him, adamant that he was going to make it off the ship. But, as she stared at him, his body torn and beaten, blood oozing from his wounds and coagulating on his uniform, his eyes sunken and listless, she began to see that he was lost. Even if he did make it out of the ship, there would be no way of telling how long it would take for proper medical attention to arrive. He could potentially linger in unimaginable suffering for hours before the inevitable. She suddenly realized that allowing him to end his own life in a heroic act of self sacrifice to save theirs was not only the only thing she could do for him now, but it was the right thing to do to spare him further anguish and pain.

She solemnly nodded and handed over all three of her frag grenades before looking at Winters. "Give him as much morphine as you can spare."

Cole didn't say a word. He simply went about his unpleasant task with a deep remorse and retrieved a small number of morphine syringes from his medical pack and placed them in Ryan's left hand. "That should keep you feeling pretty good for a while." He said as regret crept into his words.

Ryan mustered a meek nod and thanked the corpsman before he rolled his head to the opposite shoulder and told Briggs to leave. "You better get going, it's gonna get noisy as hell in here in a minute." He said, trying to form a feint smile before another cough wracked his body. Ryan responded to the pain in him by sticking a morphine needle deep into his thigh before he picked up one of the grenades and struggled to pull the pin.

Erin reached out to the fading marine and politely took the grenade from him and pulled the pin for him before placing it back in his right hand and wrapping his finger around it for him. She gripped his hand tightly for a few seconds and looked into his eyes before she dolefully gave the marine his final order. "Give 'em hell marine."

Ryan slowly worked out another nod with his waining strength and replied. "Hoorah."

Briggs was slow to release his hand as she stood, took one last look at Ryan and ordered her troops to fall back. "Pull back! Everyone pull back!" Her directive soon preceded by a burst of fire from her rifle as the squad retreated back to the escape pods, leaving Ryan to deal with the Covenant.

As the sounds of battle slowly trailed off from Ryan's hearing, he sat behind the barricade, clenching the grenade as tightly as he could in his hand, his breathing becoming ever more shallow as yet another barb of excruciating pain passed through him. He reacted by stabbing another needle into his thigh and depressing the plunger, injecting more pain killing drugs into his system. As he discarded the empty syringe, he heard footsteps coming up the hall towards him. "_Just a little longer, you just need to hold out a little longer._" He thought to himself, trying to stay in it long enough to do what needed to be done.

The footsteps neared and a tall dark shadow crawled across the floor onto the wall in front of him. "_That's it you bastards. Just a little closer._" He thought. The knowledge that his time was drawing near allowed for a surge of adrenaline to be released through his body, briefly revitalizing him as a blue armored elite rounded the corner and stood over him, glaring at him with great denigration.

Ryan looked up at the alien, a content smirk on his face. "Merry Christmas you son of a bitch." He scornfully stated as he released the plunger on the grenade and dropped it into the pile of grenades he had next to him.

It took a second for the marine's actions to sink into the elite's skull, but when it finally did, he released a growl of pure hatred and started to take aim on him.

Ryan just smiled as the grenade's fuse ran out, exploding in a lethal blast of shrapnel and heat that killed everything int its path and destabilized the other grenades, which shortly followed suit and ignited a firestorm in the small hallway junction that decimated everything it touched. Exactly as Ryan had planned, the resulting discharge of multiple explosives in such a confined area caused the automated emergency fire response system to activate, sealing the blast doors.

Sergeant Briggs, who was half way to the escape pods when the grenades went off, promptly stopped and spun around as the noise from the explosions echoed down the hall and caught up to her. Looking back in the direction from which they had just come, she regarded the empty hall for a second before she allowed a single, sober word to escape from her lips. "_Hoorah._" She respectfully commended Ryan in spirit, verbalizing her gratitude for his sacrifice, before turning and continuing off towards the escape pods to link up with James and the others.

* * *

The Tempest was violently rocked as Corruptor's attack lashed the keel of the Battlecruiser.

'Vitokree felt the vibrations travel through his ship and into his legs, brushing his nerves with their turbulent presence. A being of lesser resolve and certainty would have been mentally shaken, if not mortified, by the sensation reverberating through out the ship as the shields bore the brunt of the Imperial assault. But not Sola. He remained steadfast as he retained his nonchalant posture in the face of battle, the trembling of his ship beneath his feet far from being a discouraging experience for him. Instead, the quake invigorated him and let him know that he had finally come upon a commendable adversary as he allowed for a deep enraptured chuckle to rise from his throat before he mirthfully directed his crew to return fire. "Hit them again! Do not relent!"

His bidding was swiftly acted upon by the fire control crew, who proceeded to charge the Tempest's quad plasma turrets in preparation for a sustained long range attack. However, charging the weapons before they were ready to fire took a good three seconds to accomplish, in which time the cruiser was again forcefully jostled by another volley of laser fire from Corruptor. Tempest's shields held the Imperial attack at bay before the fire control officer ordered the strike.

"Station one, open fire!"

'Vitokree looked on through the holographic command screen as a single beam of red plasma fired from the foremost emplacement and made contact with the enemy Destroyer before dissipating. Surprisingly, the spear of energy seemed to have little effect.

Undismayed, the officer ordered the other three positions to fire upon their attacker. "Station two, open fire!" There was a momentary pause in his commands, as another lance of energy struck the Imperial craft, before stations three and four were released in rapid succession within seconds of each other. The resulting attack was three staggered blasts that dealt incredible damage to Corruptor, penetrating the shields and blasting a smoldering hole in the port side of the super structure next to the command tower.

Sola, rather than glean joy and exuberance from the sight of the wounded cruiser, suddenly felt all of his hopeful presumptions evaporate. The enemy ship had submitted far too easily to the Tempest's attacks for his tastes, failing utterly to live up to his expectations. Exhaling a disheartened sigh at the unimpressive battle he was now engaged in, he stolidly ordered his crew to decimate the failing ship. "Finish them."

The crew set about charging the energy projector and maneuvering the ship into position while they acquired their target.

"_It appears that my days of glory have long since gone._" He thought, his warrior spirit again subdued by another lackluster opponent.

* * *

On Impend, however, it was a different story. The massive warship was proving all too resilient for the standard CCS class Battlecruisers to handle. The Imperial dreadnought's upgraded shielding had allowed it to withstand a Covenant barrage of torpedoes and plasma beams from the other three ships, leaving the hull in pristine condition thus far, untouched by enemy fire. Within a matter of minutes following the engagement, Davro's ship had managed to cripple one of the alien vessels with a combined wave of capital ship grade proton torpedoes, ion cannons and intense coordinated turbolaser fire from the other escorting Mk II Destroyers,Chimaera and Stalker. The combined efforts of the three ships knocked out the cruiser's engines and damaged a number of weapons systems, leaving it to drift, powerless, amid the battle.

"All fire on the second ship." Davro ordered with a collected poise, the fear and doubt removed from his words and thoughts.

The fire operations crew relayed the attack orders to the crews of the gun batteries within range of the Battlecruiser, their observance of his command was instantly marked by a fiery storm of laser fire that impacted the nearby Covenant ship, distorting its form with a wall of orange flame as the cruiser's shields bore the brunt of the assault before collapsing and allowing several volleys of lasers to penetrate through to the hull, ravaging the bow and midsection. As the enemy ship bellowed blue flames and began to retreat from battle, a third ship began its approach.

For their first military experience with an extra galactic force, things were going unexpectedly well given the great feelings of dread that had crossed the Admiral's mind when they first stumbled upon the unsuspecting fleet. So far the only casualty to the imperial fleet was Basilisk, and that was lost due to an unpredictable error in hyperspace route calculation. Davro had momentarily placed his worries at the back of his mind and instead allowed a feeling of self-assurance to dominate his mentality in the battle.

As the third ship in line neared Impend, the bridge scanners picked up a very strange signal emitting from it.

"Sir..." The crew chief called out to the Admiral, his tone turbid at the awkward signal.

"What is it?" Davro asked, taking his concentration off of the battle outside for a moment to address the chief's concerns.

"I'm reading a radiation spike from the third ship."

Davro furrowed his brow. "Radiation?"

"Yes, sir. And it seems to be growing in intensity."

The Admiral's attentiveness was soon drawn away from the crew chief and to the ship outside as Sykes formed a muddled statement concerning the cruiser as it glided above Impend's bow and began proceeding towards the command deck, a glowing point of light visible near the midsection of the ship's ventral structure. "What is it doing?" He asked, rhetorically.

Turning his attention away from the crew chief to Captain Sykes, Davro's sight was instantly transfixed on the ship outside as he saw exactly what the Captain was referring to. The alien cruiser was indeed making its way up to the command bridge, hovering only a few hundred feet above their hull, a luminous purple colored light burning with ever increasing intensity at the midsection. But, as he observed the approach of the Battlecruiser, his eye was directed to the right as Sykes gasped and pointed towards the sudden ignition of a massive orange fireball.

Davro turned his head just in time to see Corruptor get blasted by a brilliant beam of thin purple light from one of the alien ships. The ray of light sliced through the Victory II Destroyer's hull, piercing through the superstructure just in front of the command tower and exiting at an obtuse angle near the aft engine with little effort.

Corruptor easily succumbed to the attack as its main reactor was instantly destroyed, draining the cruiser of its power and leaving it immobile and unable to retaliate as it slowly began to drift towards the ring station.

Mortified by the raw power displayed by the enemy ship, Davro turned his gaping stare back to the ship threatening Impend and sensed that it was going to try the same tactic. Realizing that there was no way to get his ship out of the line of fire in time to dodge such an attack, he was about to give the order to double the forward shields when the Covenant ship unleashed a wide, blinding shaft of purple energy upon the Imperial flagship. The dreadnought shuddered ever so slightly under the Admiral's feet as the glowing stream of light made contact with the shields and began burning its way along the length of the hull towards the command deck. Terrified by the inexorable advance of the beam in his direction, the Admiral ordered the ship to turn hard to port.

"Turn to port!!" He frantically commanded the flight crew.

The crew chief hesitated as the exterior scanners indicated the close proximity of the Star Destroyer, Stalker, just off the right of Impend's bow. "But, sir... one of our..."

Davro, his eyes glowing with contempt for the chief's insubordination, furiously reissued his demand with no concern for the potential hazard it would cause to the other Imperial craft. "Turn the ship!!"

The chief, subdued by the Admiral's piercing anger, ordered the crew to turn the ship.

Davro turned his attention back the battle outside as the massive craft began to move at a painfully slow speed to its right. He stepped forward toward the large trapezoid shaped view port window and clenched his jaw nervously as he quietly spoke to himself under his breath, willing the ship to move faster. "_Come on! Move damn you!_"

* * *

Aboard Stalker's command deck, the crew remained oblivious to the Admiral's actions as they focused their fire on another approaching Covenant Battlecruiser.

As the ship's Captain, Akal Zed, directed his craft in combat, his first officer, who was milling about with the flight crew in the crew pits behind the command deck, blurted a startled alert. "Sir, Impend is heading straight for us!"

Zed quickly glanced to the aft side of Stalker, only to see the polished keel of the flagship bearing down on them like the edge of a gigantic sword. "Take evasive action!!" He abruptly stated.

Stalker's crew took immediate action, sounding an alarm across the ship to indicate the sudden evasive maneuver. Akal and the rest of the crew were thrown from their feet while the Destroyer creaked and groaned as it lurched and plunged downward in a sharp dive to avoid the collision.

* * *

Davro, interested only with his ship's condition, continued watching the Covenant ship draw nearer to the command bridge, its ray of lethal energy still blazing a path across his ship as it continued to turn sluggishly, when a sudden flare of orange light flickered at the bow in the lower periphery of his vision. Shooting a fleeting glimpse at the minuscule eruption, the Admiral witnessed as Impend delivered a glancing blow to Stalker, tearing the right sensor globe from its command bridge. But his glance was soon directed to a development further out in front of them as Captain Sykes issued a distressing alert.

"Brace for impact!"

Davro turned back just in time to see the cruiser that had been attacking them disengage its assault and start away from them as a larger, more imposing ship began approaching them as it opened fire with a volley of plasma torpedoes.

The alien ordinance slammed into Impend's dorsal structure and superstructure, violently shaking the craft.

Knowing that his ship, as impressive as it was, must be nearing a breaking point, Davro sharply requested a status update. "Status report!"

"Sir, our shields are at 50! We can't take another hit like that!" The crew chief lamented.

Davro, now facing the prospect of losing his ship to the clearly superior firepower of the enemy fleet, ordered them to disengage form battle and head towards the mysterious space station in the planet's orbit. "Disengage and divert all power to shields! All ships head to the ring!"

Instantly, the crew pits buzzed with activity as the order for a general retreat was broadcast to the fleet, instructing them to form up on Impend at the ring.

* * *

Aboard the Tempest of Clarity, Sola had since ordered his ship to rejoin the main fleet. While his ship approached, he saw a small portion of the fleet had engaged the Imperials, who were now in the process of making a full retreat to the ring. Upon approach, he ordered his crew to charge the weapons again and target the nearest ship in the enemy formation.

His crew obliged and fired a few salvo's of plasma at the heavily damaged Stalker. The effect of the attack was immediate. A beam of red plasma energy burned out a large section of hull from the left side of the command tower, while a second made contact with the second tier of the superstructure before an order came from Ascendant Justice for all ships to hold fire.

"Shipmaster, we've been ordered to cease attacking the intruders." The crew chief calmly informed him.

'Vitokree snarled at the order before he grudgingly gave his crew the order to stop pursuing the fleeing vessels and return to the fleet. "Take us back to the fleet." He replied, knowing full well why they had been told to hold their fire. It was because of that cursed ring again. An entire enemy fleet was escaping to safety because the Prophets valued ancient relics over victory.

His crew followed his commands and returned to the main battle fleet, allowing the Imperials to escape to the ring without suffering further damage.

* * *

"Combat positions Alpha through Sierra, pull out to evac stations." Keyes stated over the Autumn's intercom as some of the final remnants of the operations crew were evacuated from the floundering cruiser.

"Go, go, go!" James shouted to a group of operations personnel, motioning them through the cramped maintenance access way leading back to the air locks as another forceful shock wave rippled through the Autumn. As the last crew member cleared through the doorway to the escape pods, James signaled his troopers. "Marines, we are leaving!!"

Instantly, Chips, Skip and Lauren abandoned their defensive positions and followed the Lieutenant back through the claustrophobic access route to the air locks.

"Erin, you there?!" James contacted her on his radio.

"Go ahead." She answered, her voice slightly distorted by electrical interference in the small passage.

"We're on our way back. Keep those bays clear." He stated as he led his group of marines through he twisting hallway to their evac station.

"Hurry it up, I don't know how long we can keep the Covenant out." The Sergeant replied, hinting at the strict time table they were on.

"Copy." James answered before he ordered his squad to pick up the pace. "Move your asses marines!"

* * *

At the air locks, Sergeant Briggs had set up a temporary defense point, designed to hold the Covenant back just long enough to allow retreating crew a safe passage to the escape pods, and had just finished ensuring that another life boat was full before it launched as the sounds of Covenant soldiers working to blast their way through yet another door could be heard resonating down the hall towards their location. Loud knocking sounds emanated from behind the sealed door as anti matter charges were placed and linked at strategic points by Covenant demolition teams.

She kept nervously switching her attention from the blast door to the maintenance hall, waiting for James and his squad to arrive.

"We've got to get the hell out of here!" Corporal Parks implored Briggs, leaving his position.

"We're waiting for the Lieutenant and his squad!" She asserted.

"If we don't leave this ship soon, we're all going to die!!" Parks replied, fear and paranoia clearly dominating his tone.

Briggs scowled at him before she grabbed him by his vest and lividly showed her contempt for his currish reactions. "Our orders are to hold this position! And we're not leaving until the Lieutenant gets back! Now get your god damned head in the game and man your post or I _will_ put my foot up your ass!"

Parks just stood there in a stupor, his eyes widened with shock at the Sergeant's off color remarks as she released him.

"Now get back on the line!"

Parks didn't even have time to react as the door at the end of the hall was wrenched open by a powerful explosion, giving rise to a squad of Spec Ops elites as they charged through the breach and opened fire on Erin and the others. Private Walker was the first to get hit, taking a shot straight to the heart, killing him instantly.

Briggs grabbed Parks by the shoulder and immediately lead him inside one of the empty escape pod bays as plasma tore by them, barely missing the two of them. She waited for a relative lull in the activity before she briefly poked her head out from behind cover to assess the situation.

As situations went, theirs was pretty dire. A squad of no less than six Special Operations elites had breached the blast door and were threatening to over take their position.

Ducking back behind cover, she was going to relay an order to Parks, but soon found him to be utterly useless as he had slumped against the wall, hugging his knees close to his chest as tears visibly traced down his cheeks, all the while repeating "I don't want to die.". At first she was going to berate him, but soon decided that it was not worth the effort. Turning her attention back to the marines at the front of the line, she was just about to give them the order to hold when the door on the other side of the hall opened, revealing James and the rest of his troops. Relieved to finally see him, she ordered the marines to instead begin withdrawing. "Marines! Fall back!" She took aim with her rifle and suppressed one of the elites as her troops began falling back.

As they did, however, one of the elites primed a grenade and hurled it at the fleeing band of soldiers.

"Grenade!" James alerted them.

Private Helms, in a momentary lack of judgment, turned around to look for the grenade. He didn't have to wait long before the plasma based ordinance attached itself to his armored chest plate. He dropped his rifle and frantically clutched at the glowing blue sphere. "Get it off! Get it off!" were his last desperate words before it exploded on the spot, spraying the walls with a mixture of his blood and plasma vapor as he was practically vaporized in an instant.

The others ignored Helms unfortunate death and continued on to the escape pod.

James stepped out of the maintenance hall doorway and took cover behind one of the rectangular computer consoles butting up against the wall. From there he laid down a short burst of suppressive fire with Erin while he slowly evacuated each marine in his squad to the lifeboat. Once all of James' troops had made it safely to the escape pod, he glanced over at Sergeant Briggs and gave her a nod, letting her know that once he fired down range, she should get to the pod herself. "You ready?"

Erin acknowledge his signal by nodding in response before she turned around and picked Corporal Parks up off of the ground. "On your feet." She plainly stated to him before she looked back at James.

He waited for a few seconds before coming out from cover and firing an aimed flurry at one of the elites. The tactic was successful as the squad of Covenant focused on him, firing searing bolts of plasma back at him as he ducked back behind cover.

Briggs took advantage of the situation and sprinted towards the only remaining lifeboat, Parks close on her heels.

James glanced back to make sure that she had made it in before thinking about how to get himself onto the pod. Then the answer came in the form of Private Peyton, who shouted across the hall to him.

"Sir! I'll cover you!"

James nodded. "On my mark.". The two waited for a brief moment before James gave him the signal to fire. "Now!"

Peyton opened fire, drawing the elite's attention as James bolted across the hall and into the pod, plasma rounds passing just inches behind him.

As James entered the pod, he called back to Peyton to abandon his position. "Peyton! Get in here!"

Peyton released the trigger on his rifle and was about to turn and enter the pod when a bolt of cyan colored plasma struck him directly in the forehead, burning through his skull and depositing a fair amount of his blood and brain matter on the wall behind him.

James watched as the marine dropped like a bag of bricks right where he stood before he quickly pressed the button next to the door, sealing them inside and priming the pod. "Hit it!" He yelled to the pilot before taking a seat and strapping himself into the seat directly across from Lauren.

Seconds later, there was a loud roar and the pod trembled violently as it was launched out of the bay and away from the Autumn.

As the group traveled away from their lost ship to the unknown surface of the ring world below, James, who was seated at the back next to the glass doors, managed to peek out back towards the Autumn as she listed to the left and began a sharp dive to the ring. But as he observed their ship begin its descent, another ship entered his vision and caught him by complete surprise. "_What the hell_?" He thought to himself as the long dagger shaped, polished silver colored ship came into view, hovering in the circumference of the ring with four other small triangular ships surrounding it.

At first he thought they were Covenant, but it soon dawned on him that Covenant ships had much smoother lines and a more curved, manta like shape to them. These pointed, sharply angular ships certainly didn't share those same qualities.

But his attention was drawn from the unidentified ships as the lifeboat entered the ring's atmosphere and shuddered violently beneath him, shaking his entire body as he shot a glance towards the pilots seat in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of what the ring looked like through the front window.

For a second, it was nothing but white as the tiny pod plunged through a thick cloud bank. Then, his first look at the ring came as a vast mountain range slowly materialized in front of them, rising above a dense forest of fur trees that grew up at the foot of the range.

"Brace up!" The pilot warned as they drew closer and closer to the surface.

James turned his head forward and faced Lauren, who had her eyes closed tightly as she applied a vice like death grip to the harness on her seat.

Seconds later, the pod was again shaken forcefully as it crashed through the canopy of tree limbs and landed on the forest floor. James was jostled by the force and his helmet was thrown from his head. Unknown to everyone on board, however, the trees hid a second cliff behind them that lead to a dry lake bed. As the pod skidded across the ground, its momentum preserved ever so slightly by a thick coating of moss that covered the ground beneath the trees, it launched itself off of the second drop off.

James felt weightless in his seat as the lifeboat became air borne once more. Upon the second landing, however, his head was involuntarily snapped to the side and smashed on the metal harness meant to protect him. The impact from the concussion knocked him out cold, enveloping his senses in a shroud of darkness.


	4. Ancient Machine

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 4

Ancient Machine

Darkness. That's what everything was in those few seemingly eternal minutes before James' eyes quickly snapped open as he felt the cold bite of steel on his right cheek. His vision was bleary at first, his surroundings composed of little more than vague, hazy shapes in his oddly horizontal perspective. A low monotonous hum quietly began to rise up from some unknown location, gently welcoming him back to consciousness like a distant chorus. He closed his eyes tight to refocus them and let out an acute grunt of fatigue before reopening them. This time his eyes found the easily identifiable form of his left hand, laying flat on its palm a foot from his face, its soft flesh tone sitting out in stark contrast against the dark gray metal plating on which he rested. As his strength and senses began to costively return to him, he twitched his fingers as an azure light pulsed up and washed over the floor, briefly illuminating everything. The sudden flare of light caught his immediate attention and he slowly lifted his head from the floor and looked straight ahead in the direction from which it had originated.

In front of him were two angled, cobalt colored walls flanking a deep shaft that formed the apex of the meeting point between them. As he looked at the strange architecture, the shaft began to glow before a thin beam of pallid blue energy shot up towards the ceiling from somewhere deep under ground, making a very soft noise, similar to that of a passing vehicle in the distance, as it went. James followed the light while it streaked upwards for a good hundred feet before abruptly vanishing from sight as it passed into the upper part of the shaft near the ceiling. After the light vanished, he immediately turned his mind back to his situation.

Taking a quick glance from his prone position, he soon realized that he was the only one around. The other members of his squad had mysteriously vanished. Reacting to the realization of solitude, he pushed himself to his knees and was about to stand when a sudden dull ache began to throb on his forehead just above his right eyebrow near the temple. James winced at the pain as he shut his eyes and tightened his jaw before bringing a cautious hand to his head to investigate the meaning for his pain. As he brought his hand to his forehead, his fingers ran across a small piece of gauze that was covering a wound.

"_From what?_", He asked himself, his mind still in a bit of a fog. James struggled for a few seconds to remember what had happened as his senses were still adjusting themselves. "_The pod crash._", He remembered. "_I hit my head when we came down. But, what happened after that? How did I get here? Where is everyone else?_" His mind buzzed with thoughts and questions as he tried to make heads or tails of his current position when, suddenly, a low pitched ring emitted to his right, followed by a dull mechanical sound as something shifted behind the tall, spear head shaped doorway leading into the room. He fixed his eyes on the door, his pulse quickening as something uncertain approached, its presence announced by a muffled, yet frantic shuffling that sounded like dozens of foot steps clamoring in his direction.

The noise got closer and vaguely audible human voices began to pipe into the commotion before the inner door opened all at once as Sergeant Briggs entered.

"Let's go, get the wounded inside!" She ordered, waving Skip and Sam through the door carrying Lauren between the two of them as she cried out at the pain of two iridescent needler rounds lodged in her abdomen.

He watched them carry her to the far wall and lay her on the ground before looking back at the door as two white armored soldiers came rushing in, carrying a third with a deep plasma wound on his stomach, and set him down just inside the door, deep groans of agony coming from beneath the faceless visage of his helmet.

Erin glanced back down the hall and gave a sharp whistle. "Guys! Bring it in!"

James' senses were being overwhelmed and all he could do was look on in a complete stupor as to just what was going on while people around him were clearly ensnared in events that he was oblivious to. Hoping that Erin would provide him the answers he was now desperately seeking, he stood and approached her as Parks and Chips came running into the room, accompanied by two other white armored troopers.

"What the hell is going on here?" He asked her, confusedly.

"We got jumped by Covenant." She quickly answered him.

"Who are those guys?" He asked, pointing to the white armored soldiers.

"Imperials." Was her very short, simplistic answer, her mind diverted to other issues at the moment.

James was about to ply with further questions, clearly dumbfounded, when Lauren's distressed and pained voice came up over the hustle, drawing his attention away from the Sergeant.

"God it hurts! Pull it out!" She begged Cole as Sam clutched her left hand tightly.

"Alright, just calm down. We'll get you fixed up." He calmly assured her, determined not lose her the way he lost Ryan. Reaching into his medical kit, he grabbed a morphine syringe and injected it into her right leg.

The drugs took a second to kick in, but they slowly deadened Lauren's pain as she began to calm down enough where Skip could talk to her in a more lucid state of mind.

Leaning over her, he gave her a brief set of instructions to follow during the rather crude procedure he was about to perform. "Lauren? Can you hear me?"

She turned her head and looked Winters in the eyes as she nodded.

"Okay, I need you to look at Sam and hold his hand as tight as possible. Just keep looking at him and don't let go of his hand for any reason. Got it?"

She nodded again, the pace of her breathing beginning to quicken as she knew what was coming.

Skip looked back at the two crystalline projectiles jutting up from her stomach. Taking in a deep breath and doing his best to steady his hand, he slowly wrapped his fingers around the fist spike. "_I sure as hell hope this doesn't go off._" He thought internally before working up enough nerve to pull the needle from her flesh.

Lauren felt the sting as the first piece of alien ammunition was being removed from her. She grit her teeth and yelled out in agony and instinctively tightened every muscle in her body while clamping down on Sam's hand with excessive force as the pink barb was finally removed.

Cole visibly exhaled a sigh of relief as the first needle came out with little trouble. Holding the projectile in both hands, he slowly lowered it to the floor, taking great care not to jolt it out of fear that it would detonate. The first round out of the way, he turned his attention back to the second. "Alright, last one." He briefly warned her before re-bolstering his nerves and gripping the second round.

As had happened before, the removal shot tendrils of pain through Lauren's body as the last needle was removed from her.

"Can someone do something with those things?" Skip rather sternly requested after extracting the last round.

James quickly reacted, collecting the spikes and tossing them down the shaft at the corner of the room. Turning away from the pit, he could see that Cole had things pretty well under control and was in the process of properly dressing Lauren's wounds, so he turned his attention back to Erin.

"So, just what is going on? How long have I been out? Who are those guys?" He asked, his face reflecting his obvious confusion and desire for answers.

Briggs sighed and thought of the best possible way to fill the Lieutenant in on the situation. "Well, you've been out for two hours."

His eyes widened at the revelation. "Two hours?!"

"Yeah, you hit your head pretty good during the crash." She watched him shake his head in disbelief. "Anyway, we managed to clear the LZ and secure this building before Lieutenant Dyre and his men touched down about a half hour later."

"Lieutenant Dyre?"

Realizing that James had no idea who she was talking about, she summoned the Lieutenant. "Hey, Dyre. Can we see you for a sec?"

A white armored trooper walked up to the pair. "What do you need?"

"This is Lieutenant Shade. My commanding officer. Maybe you could fill him in on what's going on." Briggs stated.

Dyre nodded. "Lieutenant, may I just first say that you have trained an astounding second in command in Sergeant Briggs. If her action is any indication of your leadership, then you have my utmost gratitude."

The Lieutenant's words obviously flattered Erin, but she hid it well behind a stoic look while Dyre continued to put the pieces together for James.

"Your squad arrived under her command and assisted myself and my men in repelling an attack from these "Covenant"." He paused briefly and turned to Erin. "I got that right, right?" He asked for confirmation.

She simply nodded.

"Right. The Covenant attacked us shortly after we crashed on the ring, and Sergeant Briggs arrived on the scene a short time later. Were it not for her intervention, we would have likely been killed."

"Wait, you guys crashed here, too?" James inquired.

"Yes. Our ship was shot down in a battle with the Covenant ships above the ring." Dyre affirmed.

"Well, it seems you guys are no friend of the Covenant. That already gives you a point in my book." James happily stated. "Now, Lieutenant, would you mind telling me just who you are and why you are here?"

"Well, first of all, allow me to formally introduce myself." Dyre said as he snapped to immediate attention and recited his name, rank and the platoon to which he belonged. "Lieutenant Dyre, 124st Stormtrooper Platoon." He proudly stated with a salute.

James chuckled mildly at Dyre's display before he "ordered" him to stand at ease. "Alright, thank you Lieutenant, you can relax. Can you tell me why you are here?"

The Lieutenant returned to a more relaxed state before replying to Lieutenant Shade's inquiry. "I'm afraid I don't know much about why I'm here, Lieutenant." He frankly stated. "I'm just here doing my job. Beyond that, I'm not much help at all." He paused for a second before a thought clicked into his mind. "The Admiral would be able to answer your questions more fully."

James nodded, deep in thought about the information that he had just received, and was about to thank Dyre for his cooperation and dismiss him when Skip broke into the group.

"Sir, may I have a word with you?"

James excused himself from Erin and Dyre's presence and followed the corpsman. "What's up?"

Skip sighed. "Well, I managed to stabilize her wounds. She got lucky as hell that the rounds didn't go off, or it would be a lot worse than it is. Still without proper medical care, they won't stay clear for long. Although the needles didn't detonate, they still managed to cause some internal bleeding that I can't stop with the tools I have here."

"So, what are the options?" James asked, perturbed by the news.

Cole shook his head and replied. "Without a medivac to a proper care center, there aren't many options available. She'll probably bleed out in about an hours time, two at the most."

James glanced over at Lauren, who had fallen unconscious from a combination of drugs and shock, her head resting in Sam's lap as he held her right hand tightly and gently rested his left on her forehead while he visibly struggled to fight back tears of pain and fear. "_Shit._" He swore under his breath as he turned back to Cole. "Did anyone radio for a pick up?"

"We did, sir. But I have no idea how long it will be. Things are still pretty scattered out there." Winters glumly informed his commander.

"Alright. Just do what you can." James replied as he placed a hand on Skip's shoulder.

Cole responded with a somber nod. "Yes, sir." He said before heading back to Sam.

James rejoined Erin in the center of the room and met her gaze.

Instantly, she knew what was going on. She had seen that look in his eyes a thousand times before. That distant look of pity that was always present, always the same when a friend or someone close was either dead or dying. As much as she had done for him to break his guilt and self loathing, as far as he had come from those bleak days when they first met, she was glad to see that he couldn't be forced to be numb to human suffering. Yet, at the same time, a deep concern off set the former emotion. She feared that he might begin to slip again. Of all of the soldiers he had been given command over, the six of them, Skip, Chips, Sam, Lauren, Allen and herself, were the longest surviving of any of his squad mates. They had all survived and endured two and a half years of pure hell together. The result of which was a close, nearly familial, bond. They all trusted in one another and looked out for each other, the loss of any one of them was an unthinkable concept. And it was this bond that she feared could one day serve as the catalyst for James' regression into doubt and depression.

Doing her best to strengthen his spirits and resolve, she offered encouraging words. "Hey, everything will be fine. How many times has Skip saved us from death's door?"

James, at first, bought into her optimism. "I guess you're right." Then he paused, before his mind began to betray him. "This just seems different, though."

She took a firmer tone with the Lieutenant. "That's just your nerves acting up. You've had that feeling a million times and we've all turned out okay. This isn't any different."

He looked at her, the conviction and certainty of her words striking him instantly. "You're right. Skip's a hell of a corpsman. Things will be fine." He said, returning his eyes to the three marines next to the far wall.

Just then, Dyre came up to the two of them. "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but over hear your discussion. If you want, I could have one of my men take a look at her wounds." He offered, pointing to Lauren.

James looked at Erin for a second, unsure of what more help the Lieutenant could offer, before he decided that it couldn't hurt. "Sure."

Dyre promptly called one of his men forward. "Corporal, front and center."

Another one of the white armored soldiers quickly responded to the request and arrived at the group.

"This is Corporal Avarik. He'll see to your wounded comrade." Dyre instructed them before leaving the three behind to tend to his men.

James looked at the solider in confusion. "Don't you have a corpsman or a medic?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"All soldiers of the Imperial Stormtrooper corps are equipped with, and trained in the use of, emergency medpacs." He informed them.

Erin reacted with surprise. "You are efficient aren't you?"

"The Emperor demands no less than perfection from the Stormtrooper corps. We are, after all, the representation of his will." Avarik proudly replied.

James, even though he saw that Briggs had more to say, realized that now wasn't the time and diverted the discussion as he directed the Corporal's attention to his wounded marine. "You should probably get on with your assigned task, Corporal."

Avarik nodded and moved past the two to aid Skip.

"_Sir, I've just received word from the flagship. Transport is on its way. What would you have us do with these... "others"?_" Sergeant Elsek, Dyre's second in command, asked him in a hushed tone, referencing James and his troops with a tone that subtly displayed his views that the marines were inferior to them.

Dyre, detecting the Sergeant's disrespectful undertone, quietly, yet sternly, imparted his orders. "_Were it not for these soldiers, we would have been wiped out. It is obvious that they will prove a vital asset to our cause. They're coming with us._"

Elsek glared at his superior from beneath his helmet with disgust for the decision before he simply turned away and left the Lieutenant to mingle with the squad of marines.

"And the bacta patches should stabilize the wounds and accelerate tissue growth. Frankly, there wasn't much more I could do. The patches I applied work similarly to your self-adhering antiseptic bandages, but on a more cellular level." Avarik cheerily informed James and Erin after he had finished applying Imperial medical treatment to Lauren's wounds. "You see, the bacta patches...".

But James put up a hand and politely interrupted him. "It doesn't matter how it works right now Corporal, all that matters is it's working. I thank you for your assistance."

Avarik nodded as Lieutenant Dyre approached the group.

"Lieutenant Shade, you should rally your troops. I have received word from my superiors that transportation is en route to our location." He stated, hinting towards the plans to take the marines with him.

"You want us to come with you?" James replied, bemused by Dyre's suggestion.

"Of course. It is clear that you and your troops are very familiar with the Covenant. Any information you could provide us would be most helpful to our command's efforts to exterminate the alien threat." He confidently replied.

"Would you let me discuss it with Sergeant Briggs?" James asked.

"Yes. But make it quick, the shuttle is nearly here and we will be leaving soon, with, or without you." Dyre answered, firmly stating the ultimatum before returning to his squad.

James turned with Erin and walked to the far wall. "What do you think? You're the only one with more than ten minutes of experience with them."

She looked at the Imperial troopers, then back to James. "I personally think we should give it a shot. God knows we could get all the help we need right now. Plus, it's clear that the Covenant are after them as well, so we at least have a common ground."

James rubbed his chin and thought for a second. As a commanding officer, he hated having half of the information. He hated it even more when he had practically none, like he had now. But, he also trusted Erin's judgment. She hadn't steered him wrong before, nor did he have a reason to suspect that she was having a lapse of judgment now. "Okay, we'll go with the Imperials. Round everyone up, give 'em the run down." He instructed her.

Briggs nodded and complied with his orders.

While she took care of the others, James approached Lieutenant Dyre and informed him that they would be accompanying them. "Lieutenant, we've accepted your offer. We'll be joining you and your men. But, we have one condition.".

He hesitated to use "we" without conferring with Sergeant Briggs before hand. Even though he was the ranking officer of the platoon and could make just about any call he wanted, he was always one to bounce the idea off of Erin first, favoring a joint decision over a sovereign one. Perhaps that particular trait was a remnant of his reliance on her during his darker days, but, given the situation, it was an easy request to make, and almost certainly one of the smartest.

"That is?" Dyre plied.

"In exchange for our assistance in your battle against the Covenant, we want help in rounding up our stranded soldiers."

Dyre nodded. "I think we may be able to work something out." He agreed, accepting James' terms.

* * *

"What is our status, Captain? Have our search teams located the crash site yet?" Davro inquired of Sykes.

"No, sir. But we are trying our best. The surface of the ring is just so vast, and we only have so many men. We have, however, made contact with several crew members from Stalker." Sykes replied, detecting a great deal of frustration in the Admiral's tone.

"And what is their status?"

"Most of them have reported securing strange, derelict structures on the surface and are awaiting extraction." He said, before pausing.

Davro, who had turned his eyes towards the enemy fleet that was waiting just beyond the ring, noted the pause. "What is it, Captain?"

"Some of our men have reported contact with alien forces... And human forces."

The news struck Davro like a charging Bantha. "Humans?"

"Yes, sir. One platoon of Stormtroopers, the 124th under Lieutenant Dyre, has made contact with a group of soldiers from an organization calling itself the "UNSC"."

The Admiral's mind was muddled by the report. Humans? Here? How was it possible? More importantly, what was their relation to the alien fleet that attacked them? All questions he quickly diverted into a verbal appeal for further information. "Who are these humans allied with? Are they part of the fleet that attacked us?"

Sykes shook his head. "Not at the moment, sir. It appears as if though, based on the brief report Lieutenant Dyre offered, that the humans are enemies to the "Covenant"."

"The "Covenant"?"

"He said he would elaborate once he and his men return to the ship. He said that he is bringing a squad of these "UNSC" soldiers with him from the ring."

Davro nodded and dismissed Sykes. "Go to the hangar and await their arrival. I want the Lieutenant and the humans with him brought to the bridge the second they dock."

"As you wish, sir." Sykes replied as he bowed his head and left the bridge.

* * *

"Of course, you are aware that the Prophets will surely strip you of your rank if you continue to disobey them." Neco 'Misikree blatantly informed the Shipmaster.

Sola huffed with disdain for the Prophets and Neco's remark. "Let them. The Prophets are fools to put these relics before victory."

"Mind your tongue. What you speak of is heresy." 'Misikree warned.

"Who is the greater heretic? Me for wishing to fulfill the Prophets will to see the humans exterminated? Or the Prophets themselves for staying my hand when we had the humans trapped?" 'Vitokree fired back.

Neco didn't immediately reply. He knew he was treading on unsafe ground in this discussion. In the three years he had served under Sola, the Shipmaster made it abundantly clar on several occasions that he didn't believe in what the Prophets preached, nor did he believe the Forerunners to be Gods. A fact that often left unresolved friction between the two of them as 'Misikree was the diametrical opposite of his commander as a devout believer in the Covenant, the Forerunners and all they stood for. He, unlike his superior, took a vast amount of personal joy and satisfaction in locating, preserving and exploring Forerunner artifacts. The ancient civilization enthralled his mind and captivated him with the evidence they left behind that illustrated their splendor and omnipotence. No matter how many pieces of Forerunner history were unearthed by them, he found his thirst for knowledge to be almost unquenchable. Yet, in spite of his firm devotion to the Prophets and their portrayal of the Forerunners, he could, at times, almost, _almost, _see where Sola was coming from with his counterintuitive nature. Some of what he said could make sense... If one were to denounce the Prophets and Forerunners in an act of heresy.

'Misikree finally worked up the nerve to respond to the Shipmaster. "The Hierarchs are only trying to protect the legacy of the Forerunners. Surely even you can glean honor in preserving the past of such a once powerful civilization. They are, after all, the ones from which we have gained our power. Our ships, our weapons, everything that makes us what we are today has been a gift from the Forerunners."

Sola gave a short grunt to the statement. Although his cohort's words still contained underpinnings of that religious drivel that he hadn't the time nor patience for, he could at least agree with Neco on the grounds that preserving the history of a race such as the Forerunners was indeed an honorable cause as he suggested.

A silence took the control center for a few moments. Only the soft noise of the humming, pulsing control panels on the command deck could be heard before footsteps broke into the calm.

'Vitokree turned as his crew chief approached him.

"We have received a message from the fleet, Shipmaster." He informed him.

Sola said nothing in return as he awaited the message to be verbally delivered.

"The counselor first wished for me to relay his immeasurable disappointment and discontent for your actions. Secondly, as punishment for further inconveniencing our cause here on the holy ring by allowing more intruders to invade it when you disregarded direct orders, he has demanded that the full effort of your command is to be devoted to exploring and securing sacred sites on Halo." The chief stated, relaying the Prophet counselor's orders.

'Vitokree's eyes lit up with rage as he clenched his fists tight and growled at the crew chief before drawing his energy sword and slicing the top off of one of the holographic projection pylons on the command deck next to himself with unbridled fury, causing a sizable section of the transparent banner to evaporate as blue flames arched from the severed pylon.

The crew chief and Neco watched on in shock, taken aback by both the viciousness of the Shipmaster's outburst, and the raw power he had exerted with it.

Sola's breathing deepened and slowed, each new breath accompanied by a deep menacing growl, before he turned back to the chief, sword still in hand. "Tell the bastard Prophet that he shall have his "exploration"." He finally replied, venom dripping from his words.

The crew chief, not wishing to make himself the next target of 'Vitokree's wrath, obediently bowed his head and left the command center to relay the message.

'Misikree remained silent as he watched the Shipmaster fume over his latest orders.

'Vitokree maintained his gaze straight ahead on the large holographic displays in front of the command deck for a few seconds, his body frozen in an aggressive combat stance by pure spite and anger, before he suddenly snapped his head to the right and fixed his eyes on the red armored elite standing next to him. "It seems as if though one of us is getting what we want." He snapped.

Neco remained speechless. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset the Shipmaster and earn his ire.

"Prepare your men for departure." Sola continued as he finally deactivated his sword and relaxed his body to a more passive posture.

'Misikree only gave a slow nod before leaving the command center to prepare his warriors for their coming assignment.

* * *

"Wait here while I inform the Admiral of your arrival." Sykes instructed Dyre, James and Erin as he led the group onto the bridge, before leaving them to inform Davro of their arrival.

James and Erin were instantly taken in by the sheer size of everything about the ship. The bridge was a humming nexus of activity as fight crew and ops personnel hurried about the command deck, tending to their own individual tasks. The three large view port windows at the head of the bridge offered a spanning panoramic view of the space outside the ship. It was far larger than anything that either of them had experienced in the UNSC fleet and seemed to be designed specifically to reflect an air of dominance and superiority.

James leaned in close to Briggs and whispered in her ear. "_They only give ships like this to one kind of person._" He stated, confident in his assessment of the Admiral before they even met.

She replied with a slight nod of approval. " _Of course, he could also be one of the nicest people you've ever met_." She jokingly poked back with a lop sided smile.

James chuckled under his breath before another voice broke into their little private moment.

"First Lieutenant James Shade, I presume." The voice announced as it approached.

The two immediately looked away from each other and towards the Admiral. Upon setting eyes on him for the first time, though, they were both struck by the presence of his ghostly right eye.

"I'm Fleet Admiral Davro. Representative for the Galactic Empire and its Emperor." He formally stated, a certain hint of self absorbed pride and superiority in his words.

James nodded, overlooking the pompous nature of Davro's tone, and introduced Erin, doing his best not to stare at the Admiral's morbid eye. "And this is my second in command. Sergeant First Class Erin Briggs."

Davro glanced at the Sergeant only briefly without saying a word, a masked emotion of disapproval seeping out from beneath his stoic persona, before refocusing his attention on James.

It was only a fleeting look, but it spoke volumes to Erin none the less. She got the distinct impression that the Admiral disliked her for some reason or another. And she had a good idea why. James' judge of character was turning out to be on the money. The Admiral, in that one display of disrespect, was revealing his true colors. Colors that she could barely stand to look at, much less consort with. However, even in spite of the Admiral's disagreeable character, she set aside her pride and resolved to tolerate Davro for the moment in the hopes that they might be able to forge an alliance with the Imperials against the Covenant.

"Lieutenant Dyre tells me that you aided he and his men against the "Covenant"." The Admiral stated, showing a small measure of appreciation for Lieutenant Shade.

"Actually, sir, I had nothing to do with it." James politely corrected him. "Sergeant Briggs was the one who aided your men."

Davro looked back at the Sergeant once more. "Really?" He asked, disbelief in his voice.

"That's correct." Erin replied, doing her best to pull back the fanged comments she had waiting in the wings.

The Admiral let out a short nasal grunt in response before looking back to James. "Well, regardless, you certainly have my thanks." He stated, ignoring the suppressed loathing that he knew Briggs had for him at the moment. "Now, Lieutenant Dyre has informed me that you have information on these alien forces facing us. "

"That's right. We only have one condition, though, in exchange for this information." James told him.

"Oh? And what might you be requesting of me, Lieutenant?" Davro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We'll provide you with as much information and assistance as we possibly can against the Covenant. But, in return, we would like your help in rallying stranded marine forces on the ring. From there we can both present a united front against the Covenant that just might be enough to beat them." James stated, setting his terms out for the Admiral to consider.

Davro crossed his arms over his chest and hesitated for a moment before he grudgingly agreed to accept Lieutenant Shade's ultimatum. "Given the situation, it seems we are reliant on one another. Without your information, my fleet will surely be destroyed. And without my assistance, your forces may very well be wiped out... Very well, you have my cooperation. In return for your information, I will fully aid you and your men against the alien force." The Admiral extended a hand to seal the deal, as it were.

James accepted and shook Davro's hand. But as he did, the Admiral imparted a rather ominous warning.

"Be warned, though, Lieutenant. I do not tolerate betrayal. If I even so much as suspect you or any of your soldiers are aiding the enemy, I will not hesitate to destroy you." He said in a foreboding tone as he lowered his brow, indicating the seriousness of _his_ ultimatum.

James suddenly felt uneasy in the Admiral's presence and was having second thoughts. Only ten seconds into an impromptu alliance and there were already tensions? What kind of agreement was this? He knew that forming an alliance with someone you don't know isn't always an easy task and that reservations are to be expected at first. But this seemed different somehow. Davro didn't seem to be in any way interested in making a lasting pact, he seemed to be making a pact made out of necessity that he would discard at a moments notice if it so suited his purposes. And even though practically every fiber of his being was screaming for him to rip his hand out of the Admiral's grasp and walk off the ship, James was reluctant to do so. As apprehensive as he was that this handshake might be sealing their doom, he was equally hopeful that it could possibly lead to a lasting friendship that might, just might, be able to turn the war in their favor. If they could make it work here, who knows, maybe the whole of the Imperial military would be inclined to get involved on Earth's side.

But that had a great chance of being foolish optimism and James quickly returned his wandering thoughts to the moment. "Don't worry, Admiral, I won't betray your trust." He assured him.

"I would certainly hope not." Davro replied before releasing the Lieutenant's hand.

James bypassed the Admiral's unpleasant demeanor and continued on with the point of the matter. "We should get moving, Admiral. Time is short. The Covenant are very efficient when it comes to destroying their enemies. And given our current status, they have an enormous head start on us."

The Admiral nodded in approval before the group set out to plan their next move against the Covenant.


	5. Reunion Tour

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 5

Reunion Tour

Davro stood once again at the front of the command deck and observed the Covenant fleet off in the distance. "_Why haven't you come after us?_" He asked himself, unnerved by the alien tactic.

In all his years of experience in the Imperial fleet, he had learned that when an enemy fleet fully disengages you and regroups beyond your effective battle range, then the odds are high that they are either retreating, or planning a counter attack. And clearly, they weren't retreating. They had forced his ships to the ring, crippled many of his vessels and destroyed three. Now, all that remained was Impend and three escorting Star Destroyers. The Covenant had him beat in every way, and he knew it. But why they hadn't yet taken advantage of their precarious position was beyond him.

The only attempt made by the aliens to attack his battered fleet was made by a lone cruiser. But, that was a couple of hours ago, well before contact with the UNSC, and it didn't so much engage the fleet as it just punched through, bypassed the rest of the ships and made its way to the ring below. At first he thought it might have been a preliminary attack that would precede a second assault, but when no other ships from the fleet followed in its wake, he began to think it was either a rogue ship, or a ship sent out on a very specific mission. Either way, the Covenant fleet was holding, for now, and did not pose the most immediate threat to their operations. So, he turned his attention away from the enemy ships and focused on the matters at hand.

The Admiral strode off the bridge and into the command salon located just before the entrance to the bridge. "Captain." He stated.

Sykes, who had been meticulously attending to numerous transmissions coming to the ship from both Imperial and alien origins, immediately looked up from one of the consoles he was currently enthralled with and answered. "Yes, sir?"

"I wish to speak with you privately."

"Sir." Sykes replied before following the Admiral on the short trip to his private quarters, located adjacent to the command salon.

Inside Davro's quarters, the Captain stood at attention as Davro took a seat behind his desk.

The room was silent for a moment as Davro slowly and methodically pulled each of his gloves off, finger by finger, and placed them neatly at the corner of the desk before he spoke. "Please, be seated." He calmly instructed Sykes, gesturing towards one of the chairs in front of him.

Sykes sat down and waited for what the Admiral had to say.

"I'm going to get straight to the point, Captain." He began. "I don't trust these UNSC people. They know more than they are letting on. Now, I'm willing to work with them if they are willing to work with me. But, I cannot leave them unattended. I need someone who I can trust to watch them and report to me on their activity."

Sykes knew where this was going, and he couldn't blame the Admiral. In fact, he was considering asking Davro himself for permission to personally oversee the Imperial operations in conjunction with the marines. Though the UNSC was the first to extend the olive branch, such action comes with suspicion. Was it an actual desire for truce? Or was it part of an elaborate scheme against them? It couldn't be said one way or the other at the moment. So, caution and apprehension were their best options until they could fully gage the UNSC's trustworthiness.

"I am entrusting you with that task, Captain." Davro continued. "Keep your vigil on the UNSC, keep them close and report to me on their every move. You have my authorization to use _any_ of the tools at our disposal to keep tabs on them."

Sykes was stunned by the level of clearance the Admiral was granting him and stammered for a response. "Sir, are you certain... I mean, the Emperor... If that knowledge falls into enemy hands."

"_Any _means, Captain." Davro reaffirmed, pointedly defining his desires once more, hinting at what he was expecting of the Captain.

Captain Sykes paused for a second before accepting the appointment, albeit with extreme reluctance. "I shall not fail you, sir."

Davro smiled and nodded in response. "Good, good. I knew I could rely on you."

* * *

Meanwhile, inside Impend's gigantic hangar, James and four members of his squad looked on from the side, feeling insignificant and completely out of place, as the Empire began to gear up for a ground assault on the ring.

Their preparations were massive and awe inspiring as tech crews scampered bout the floor, making checks to equipment and material, while maintenance crews worked at preparing a small band of four two legged walker vehicles. The craft were somewhat amusing and disproportionate in appearance with their large square shaped head supported by two spindly legs that resembled, in some fashion, chicken legs.

Suspended above their heads, amid a lofty catwalk system near the ceiling of the hangar, was a row of no less than ten unknown fighter craft. Each one appeared imposing and nimble in its own right with a small spherical fuselage suspended by a pair of support vanes between a pair of curved wings that appeared to be covered in solar panels of some kind. As an addition to the craft's unique design, each wing had a split on the forward portion that created two points to which the weapons were attached.

In front of them, four columns of Stormtroopers awaited transport to the surface as they stood motionless in perfect unity while their superior officer's paced the lines and barked orders.

"_This is what we have been trained for. We are now the vanguard of peace and security in this new frontier. You have been trained to give your lives when necessary to further the goals of the Emperor. Now, you will be given the opportunity to perform your duty to him and preserve the sovereignty of the Empire. Though you may die here, know that your death is not an act of forfeit, but instead an act of honor that brings the Empire one step closer to attaining victory._" One of the officer's sternly said as he reiterated the Empire's purpose to his men.

The composure and professionalism of the Stormtroopers, along the nature of the words being spoken to them by their superior's, instantly struck James as being the caliber of army that one would expect to see in a heavily politicized dictatorial regime. The marines of the UNSC were no slouches in comparison, not by a long shot. They were some of the toughest, bravest and most bad ass group of men and women he had ever seen in his life, save the Spartans. But even when the corps stood as a group and awaited orders, one could detect anxiety and nervousness quite easily through out their ranks. That was far from the case with these Imperial troopers. Maybe it was just those lifeless helmets that they wore that hid their fears and reservations, or maybe it was as he suspected, a highly trained, disciplined army that was indoctrinated to obey at every command and never show fear.

Whatever the case was, it made him glad that he wasn't part of the Empire. Being part of an army trained to give itself up for the ego of one man was not something that caught his attention. Earth had seen its fair share of dictators before, and each one brought with them unmentionable horrors. He was just as proud to be a marine, fighting for all of Earth, not just its government or its leaders, but every single man woman and child. That was a far greater price to fight for, he wagered, than the ambitions of one man.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing alarm echoed through the cavernous room as it sounded off from the far right side of the hangar and drew everyone's attention towards a massive pair of steel doors. As the group looked at the doors, red warning lights flashed repeatedly on either side of the door before a voice came over the p.a. system. "_All crew stand clear of loading bay 6. Repeat, clear loading bay 6._"

Seconds later, the doors began to creak and screech as they separated from one another, revealing a room beyond. The bay was dim, and the small squad had a hard time making any of its contents out from their position near the opposite corner on the right hand side. Suddenly, lights kicked on inside the loading bay and illuminated a large, almost triangle shaped, transport with a flat top and two tall loading doors on the front, as a guide rail extended from a central crane like assembly in the middle of the hangar above the large rectangular opening in the floor and attached to the transport. The squad looked on, dumbfounded by what they were seeing, when the rail began to retract, pulling the transport along behind it, just feet from the floor, it until it was positioned directly over the opening in the hull of the ship.

Chips laughed upon seeing the container.

James looked at him, suitably confused by the marine's joy.

Chips' laughter slowly subsided as he saw the look on the Lieutenant's face.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" James asked.

"Well, whatever it is that's in that thing, the Covenant are screwed." Dubbo answered, laughter again coming back to his voice.

James shook his head as he sighed. "You always are one to find the upside in everything aren't you?" He asked rhetorically. "Still, I hope you're right."

Just then, Lieutenant Dyre approached the group and informed them of their imminent departure. "You may wish to begin rallying your men, Lieutenant. Our preparations are nearly complete. The advance force will be launching soon."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." James replied. "But, if there is time, I would like to check in on my wounded marine." He added.

"The infirmary is through that door to your left, up the hall, to the right and down four doors. It is the fourth door on your right. But be quick about it." Dyre answered.

James nodded and Dyre left the group. He turned to Erin. "You can handle things here, right?"

She didn't immediately reply. Her focus was distant, her mind replaying the events on the Autumn and her encounter with the Admiral. Both incidents were equally disturbing, but for different reasons. Ryan's death brought her sorrow mixed with pride and honor. But that was contrasted by the deep disdain and dislike she had for Davro and his arrogant sexism.

"Hello, James to Erin. Is anyone awake in there?" He repeated.

His words got through this time and snapped her out of her daze. "Huh? What? Yeah, what do you need?" She asked.

"I asked if you could handle things here getting the squad around. I'm going to check up on Sam and Lauren real quick before we leave." He stated, noting Sergeant Briggs' demeanor.

"Yeah, I got it." Her voice hinting that she was still somewhat distracted.

"You sure?" James asked in concern.

"Yes. I'm fine. Just go." She stated, shaking the current thoughts from her mind.

"Alright then. I'll be back in five." He replied before leaving the group and heading for the infirmary.

* * *

In the hall outside the Imperial medical bay, Sam leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, as he stared back at the metal face of the door separating him from Lauren on the other side. He maintained his gaze until the Lieutenant's voice called out to him.

"Sam. What's going on?" He asked as he approached the marine.

"Oh, nothing." Sam answered, his voice devoid of character.

James took immediate note of his tone. "Is something wrong?"

Edwards exhaled a deep breath as he stood from his slanted position and looked James in the face. "Nothing is wrong, sir. I... I just can't stand to... You know." His sentence was broken and marked by his attempt to cover the fear ridden emotions that were trying to push their way through.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." He compassionately related. "I know what she means to you. I know what you did to keep the two of you together."

"She's all I've got left, sir." Sam stated, angst welling up in him.

"I know. And trust me, I'm not about to let anything take that away." James assured him.

Sam just nodded his head in response before managing to regain his composure enough where he could speak clearly again. "Yeah, about all of that, sir. I just wanted to say... Thanks. I know the corps doesn't like siblings to be assigned to the same unit, and I know that you risked your career when you overlooked those forged transfer papers. So, thank you. I mean it."

James could tell that he was sincere. And who could blame him? Any other commander in the corps might have stuck to the rule book and kept the two apart. But he didn't, and wouldn't, do it. Not after what they had been through.

Sam wasn't being facetious when he said that Lauren was all he had left. She was, literally, all that was left of his former life. After the Covenant laid waste to their home world and killed pretty much everyone they had ever known, the two spent the better part of their lives on the run, jumping from colony to colony in a desperate attempt to escape the Covenant until they decided to join the marine corps and take a stand in the hopes of avenging their lost family, rather than perpetually grieving them. The only glitch in their plan turned out to be the fact that the UNSC didn't like to keep family together in the armed services. So, he falsified his last name and forked over every last dime of his life's savings to a professional counterfeit artist to have a set of transfer papers "legitimized". The ploy wouldn't have worked if he had handed those papers over to any other commanding officer. The counterfeiting was of very poor quality for the price he paid and easily betrayed his intent. Still, after Sam explained his situation, James felt compelled to let him stay after his transfer documents mysteriously turned up "missing" before they could be filed. The platoon quickly adopted the two into their ranks and took up a "don't ask, don't tell" stance towards their situation. From there, the issue ceased to be an issue and just vanished from sight all together without anyone beyond the platoon being any the wiser.

"Don't mention it." The Lieutenant replied with a humble smile as he patted Sam on the shoulder. "Listen, I'm going to head on in and check up on her real quick before we leave. I need to know, do you think you can handle combat right now?"

"Sir?" Sam asked, taken by surprise by the question.

"If you want to stay here on the ship with her and wait for us to get back, you can." James stated.

Sam was unsure of how to respond. He had never been given the choice over whether or not he wanted to go to battle before. "I, uh..."

James interrupted him. "On second thought. Why don't you just stay here. Consider these your new orders. Stay on the ship and monitor her progress. Report back to me when we return. Okay?" He said, calmly giving the Private a new directive.

"I guess, if that's what you want, sir." Sam answered, still dumbstruck by the Lieutenant's actions.

"Absolutely. You just wait here for us to get back." James continued.

"Okay, sir." Edwards replied, a feint smile finally returning to him as his spirits were marginally restored.

James nodded and walked into the medical bay, leaving Sam outside in the hall way again.

As the Lieutenant entered the room and the door automatically closed behind him, Sam returned to leaning against the wall, his mind filled with thoughts. He couldn't even begin to express his gratitude for Lieutenant Shade. He had been so good to the two of them following their ordeal and their assignment to his command. He couldn't think of another person in the galaxy he'd rather follow into battle. While he mulled over his own private thoughts, Sergeant Elsek came walking up the hall. Sam glanced at him as he approached the door to the infirmary, and the Sergeant looked back with his dark eye lenses on his helmet. Even though he couldn't see the man's face, Edwards got the impression that Elsek didn't like him. Or maybe it was just that helmet that gave him that feeling. It wasn't exactly the most inviting thing to stare at. Regardless, the look lasted for only seconds before Elsek opened the door and entered the room.

* * *

"See, and her vitals are doing just fine. I predict a full recovery in just under an hour or so." Avarik happily informed James as he leaned over the Corporal's shoulder as he pointed out the relevant data on the viewscreen in front of them.

"Excellent. Thanks, Corporal." James stated with elation before Elsek's unpleasant tone rose up after their conversation.

"Avarik, the Lieutenant sent me to get you. We're leaving." He informed him, ignoring Lieutenant Shade's presence entirely.

Avrik stood from his seat and started towards the door, when James interrupted him. "Is it alright if I leave a man behind to monitor her progress?" He asked.

Corporal Avarik looked at Elsek, then back to James. "I don't really know how he can monitor her. Your people are unfamiliar with our equipment. Besides, the medical droids should be able to handle things."

James quickly responded. "Perhaps "monitor" was the wrong word. What I really need someone to do is stay here with her. You know, so she has a familiar face to be with until we get back."

Avarik looked back at his superior for approval.

Elsek said nothing in return as his impatience grew, its visible effects on his face hidden only by his helmet as he clenched his jaw in frustration at the Lieutenant and his constant nagging questions and requests.

The Corporal, aware of his Sergeant's rather short temper, knew that the waiting was getting on Elsek's nerves and finally answered. "I don't see why not. I'll have one of my colleagues come here to provide company and guidance should she awake before our return."

"Great. Thank you again, Corporal." James thankfully responded.

The group finally left the room and entered the hall. Elsek and Avarik continued on to the hangar while James stayed behind to let Sam know what was going on.

"Alright, they've agreed to let you stay here in this room and keep an eye on things. Corporal Avarik said he'd be sending another person down to keep you company and handle things if she wakes up before we get back." James informed him.

Sam nodded. "Okay, sir. And, thanks again."

James nodded in response and left to return to the hangar to meet up with the rest of his squad to prepare for their coming mission.

* * *

Aboard the Tempest of Clarity, Shipmaster 'Vitokree stood on the command deck, one of his subordinate assistants briefing him on a recent discovery.

"The facility is located in the midst of a very dense swamp. Our initial scans indicate that it is a very secure facility. If we can manage our way inside, it may serve us well as a munitions depot and command base." The officer said.

Sola was spoiling for a fight. He was searching for any way he could "accidentally" send his troops into battle against the humans. Even though the Prophet counselor had ordered him to concentrate his efforts on securing "sacred sites", he wagered that he could not be blamed for having to fight his way to them. "Are there any hostile forces nearby?" He inquired.

"No, Shipmaster. Several air patrols have scanned the area. It seems entirely deserted."

The report left 'Vitokree unsatisfied and he dismissed the officer. "Continue with your work."

The elite obliged his commander and left the command center.

Sola turned his thoughts inwardly again in the quiet solitude of the command center, his burning anger and contempt for the Prophet counselor far from extinguished. After all he had done for them, all of the battles he had participated in, all of the human fleets he had destroyed, all of the worlds he had burned to cleanse them of the humans vile, disgusting presence. And this was how he was "rewarded" for his service? This was the manner in which the Prophets sought to utilize his skill? By handing him a reprimand and the thankless, mundane task of exploring the ring? He considered it an insult for his training and prowess to be implemented in such an insignificant way. He was a Sangheili warrior, feared across the galaxy by all who stood before him. He did not earn his armor and respected position as Shipmaster by leisurely excavating the relics of a lost civilization. Those things, the things that defined his very person, were attained in the only place one could possibly hope to achieve them, in glorious battle. Something the Prophets clearly hadn't the slightest notion or perception of.

As Sola dwelled on his personal feelings of denigration for the Hierarchs, the memories of his past battles came back to him. The early days of the war were his most memorable times. He remembered the thoughts he had when he learned of the Covenant's first meeting with the humans. At first, the small colony that they called "Harvest" offered little resistance and quickly fell to their ships.

But, it was when the humans retaliated that he suddenly felt invigorated by the knowledge that the trials of war were once again upon him. Instead of the news of a Covenant defeat serving to deflate his ambitions, it had the exact opposite effect. It brought him a sense of challenge and worth to know that the UNSC could withstand their efforts.

With the human victory fresh in his mind, he expected great things from the coming war as his ships were ordered to attack the human colony world of Jericho VII. And the battle did not disappoint him. It dragged on for three spectacular days. Covenant and human ships destroying each other in a brutal campaign of attrition for survival. At no other point in his life did he feel more alive than he did at that battle.

Then, things turned on him. The humans would still win battles, but nothing that ever dealt an impossible blow to the Covenant momentum. In spite of the attacks both sides were exchanging with one another, their ships continued forward, their legions marched on unhindered. World after world collapsed under the sheer might of their attacks. That was when he lost all faith and respect in the humans as worthy combatants. That was when he began entertaining his own private genocidal desire to exterminate all of mankind. But, the Prophets were ever foolish. As he endeavored to wipe the humans from the face of the galaxy, the Prophets always seemed to be hindering his attempts with their religious tripe. Each new battle, conveniently, brought with it the threat of damaging their precious Forerunner artifacts. Halo was nothing new. It was just another obstacle the Hierarchs placed in his way to stifle him.

"_The rest of my elite brethren are blind._" He thought to himself with much disappointment for his fellow species' apparent blind faith in the Prophets. "_We have traded our heritage, our way of life, for dusty ruins. We have allowed the Prophets to subjugate us the way we worked to subjugate the rest of the Covenant._"

There was little doubt within him as to the absolution of the inevitable truth of the matter as the next thought rolled forward in his mind. "_We were fools to join the Prophets. Had we realized their devotion to Forerunner relics earlier, we may have been able to use it against them._" He thought, his mind becoming ever more disenchanted with both the Prophets and the Covenant he and his species had formed with them so many years ago.

"_Now, it is too late. Even if we attempted to break from the Prophets, a myriad of beings from all corners of the galaxy would stand against us, enslaved by the Prophets. And we would have willingly propagated this._" He paused for a moment, the thoughts deeply disconcerting to him. It was almost unthinkable that the elites would so willingly surrender themselves to the will of another species. They were a proud, noble race with a warrior's honor that governed their composure and actions and permeated every fiber of their species livelihood. "_Although, it would be the most glorious battle we would ever fight. Us against the galaxy. Few elites would deny themselves such a marvelous battle._" He finally added.

The thought that the entire Sangheili race would be put to the ultimate test against the entire galaxy, was a feeling that almost made him want it. It would be a lost fight, of this much he was certain. But he was equally certain that it would be the elite's finest hour.

But, as he entertained thoughts and dreams of a grand battle that may very well never take place, his flight control officer entered the command center and strode up onto the command deck.

"Shipmaster, we have word from 'Misikree's forces on the location of the Cartographer." He stated.

"And?" Sola replied, feigning interest, as always, in these "Holy Sites".

"It is as the Hierarchs suspected. The Cartographer leads straight to Halo's control room."

'Vitokree's mind began to race with a thought. A thought that he was certain would break the ennui he had been mired in since their arrival on Halo.

"Neco and his warriors are on their way to..." The officer began before the Shipmaster interrupted him.

"No. Turn them around. Send them to the swamp. I will handle the control center." He stated with a twisted pleasure in his words. He despised 'Misikree's overly obedient attitude when it came to fulfilling the Prophets every demand. Taking a few moments to make his life miserable by sending him into the midst of a stinking swamp was well within 'Vitokree's range of character.

"But... I thought..." The elite started up.

"The control room is clearly an important site. I shall personally oversee its security detail." Sola continued, his plans not at all that subtle.

"I shall re-route our warriors." The elite calmly obeyed before he left the command deck.

'Vitokree was pleased with his subordinate's findings. If 'Misikree had indeed located the control center, it would very likely be an equal target for the humans. No doubt they would attempt to attack it when they locate it for themselves. And when they did, he would be there, waiting to oblige them.

* * *

The sounds of battle echoed across the plateau as red laser bolts, bullets and plasma filled the air, mixing with the agonized screams of the wounded and the adrenaline charged war cries of the living fighting desperately to stay that way, creating a hellish landscape stained with blood, masked with a lingering veil of smoke as the Covenant forced their numbers forward against the alliance of Imperial and UNSC military forces opposing them.

Shortly after James and his squad had set off from Impend with Lieutenant Dyre and his squad in search of stranded marine and Imperial forces, the group came across a mixed band of soldiers hiding out in a series of underground tunnels near some kind of strange tower situated on a grassy plateau at the top of a mountain range near a steep cliff that plummeted hundreds of feet to a marshy river delta below. Unfortunately, matters were complicated when a pair of escort Banshee's happened by and relayed their position to the main force before they could extract their allies. Within minutes, what seemed like an entire Covenant army had descended on the area and began laying siege to them. Losses at the outset were horrific. Nearly thirty percent of the surviving force, along with their only evac shuttle, was wiped out by Covenant air support before they could even defend themselves. From there, the dropships came in and began unleashing waves of alien soldiers while the Banshee's patrolled the skies above, keeping any attempted evac transport well out of range. The situation was deteriorating quickly in the face of the relentless Covenant assault as they were pressed into the confined tunnels underground. Without air support and evacuation, it would not be long before the alien horde inevitably destroyed them.

"Let's go! Get inside!" James shouted as he and a squad of Imperial and marine troopers covered a small group of UNSC ops personnel while they rushed to get inside the abandoned structure.

The field before them was swarming with alien soldiers of nearly every type. The imposing eight foot tall elites laughed heartily in alien tongues at the human resistance as they cut down their ranks with precision and ease. The short, stalky grunts taunted them with their high pitched throaty chatter from behind their leaders and dispatched their fair share of stormtroopers and marines alike with combined swarms of lethal plasma bolts and pink armor piercing needler rounds.

As the ops crew hurried inside, one of the stormtroopers assisting Lieutenant Shade took a blast from an over charged plasma pistol. The glowing blob of radioactive plasma slammed directly into the trooper's chest plate, melting it instantly from the sheer heat generated by the collective wad of particles. The soldier fell to his back, writhing and screaming out in excruciating pain as his armor was melted and literally fused to his chest by the impact of the plasma round.

Corporal Avarik quickly rushed to his comrade's side and dragged him inside the building to a safer location.

James instantly took aim on the jackal responsible for the attack and squeeze the trigger on his rifle. Several bullets sped from the muzzle of his gun and made contact with the alien's large circular energy shield. The rounds were easily deflected, bouncing off of the shield and away from the Kig-yar's fragile bird like frame with an audible ping. "Fall back!" He ordered as the jackal returned fire on him and forced him to take cover behind a nearby tree.

The skirmish line slowly began to dissipate as the stormtroopers and marines made a hasty withdrawal to the relatively safer grounds inside the structure as the Covenant mercilessly advanced forward.

While the line fell to pieces, Lieutenant Shade witnessed as one of the retreating marines took a handful of needles in his back just feet from the door.

The pink barbs stuck in one by one until they finally exploded en-mass, their collective power devastating the poor trooper's body as they exploded and ripped him apart, sending a spray of blood, limbs, innards and crystalline shards everywhere.

James threw his arms up in front of his face as what was left of the marine spattered him, coating his armor with specks of blood. After taking a second to recover from the horrific spectacle, he stepped out from behind the tree and spun to train his rifle down range. He quickly acquired a pair of grunts that had advanced well in front of the main attack and were attempting to cut straight up the middle of their lines. He targeted the first one and put three rounds in its chest, dropping it on the spot. The second grunt threw its arms in the air and ran the other way screaming in terror before he equally dispatched it with two aimed rounds to the back of the head.

The 7.62x51mm rounds easily penetrated the alien's skull and tore their way through, effecting a plume of neon blue, methane rich blood, flecked with fragments of bone, as they exited the creature's face.

As the grunt dropped to the ground from its fatal head wound, a sudden movement in his left peripheral caught James' attention. He quickly aimed his MA5B in the direction only to set eyes on a pair of jackals heading to the left in an attempt to out flank their position. He had the perfect shot. They were obviously not paying any attention to him and their shields, being carried on their right arms, were on the opposite sides of their bodies, leaving their soft skin on their left sides entirely exposed. "_Goodnight._" He quietly said to himself as he steadied his aim and squeezed the trigger. But, instead of the expected crack of bullets whizzing from the barrel of his rifle, he got a heart stopping metal click.

The failure of his rifle gave the jackals the few extra seconds they needed to finally realize their dangerous situation. One of the five foot tall bird like aliens looked directly at the Lieutenant and quickly alerted his fellow soldier with a short series of airy sounding screeches and hisses.

James' eyes widened with sudden terror and his pulse quickened at the sight of the jackals as they quickly corrected their stances and pulled their shields over their bodies before firing upon him. He reacted in seconds, ducking back behind the tree, just fast enough to miss the deadly stream of plasma as it sizzled through the air, passing through the exact spot he had occupied mere seconds ago. From behind his haven, he took a look at his rifle, praying that it wasn't a jam. Upon examining his rifle, though, he was relived to find that the ammo counter had simply spun to 00. He ejected the spent clip and snapped a new one into place before chambering the first round, instantly spiking the digital counter back to a more comfortable 60 rounds.

With a fully loaded weapon in his hands, he felt more secure as he tentatively craned his head around the tree in an attempt to observe the jackals. The second he did, however, the Covenant soldiers fired on him, forcing him back and keeping him pinned. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed aloud as he was forced to guard his face from shards of burnt tree bark as the plasma rounds burned into the trunk. "_Bastards have me pinned._" He thought. "_Well, this is just great. How do you get out of this one James?_" He was absolutely sure that if he stayed here much longer, he was as good as gone. No doubt the Covenant were swarming their right flank and would eventually catch up to him. He hadn't heard from Erin since he assigned her to guard that pass. He hoped she was alright. Maybe they were able to hold. Who knows. He couldn't tell, and in order to figure that out, he had to get the hell out of here first. But how?

While he tried to formulate an escape plan, a solution to his predicament soon revealed itself when he heard a sharp whistle to his left. He immediately focused his attention in that direction and was elated to see Sergeant Briggs and Private Dubbo had managed to creep their way up to his position, using the tower as cover to mask their advance.

James gave them a hand signal to hold their ground before silently relaying the number of Covenant infantry facing them.

Erin showed that she understood the situation by nodding to the Lieutenant. She turned to Chips. "Give me a frag."

He handed over one of his grenades to the Sergeant, then she pointed towards the rear of the tower, indicating that she wanted him to watch her back. He aimed his rifle at the far end of the structure and covered their backs.

Briggs turned back to the Lieutenant, the M9 grenade firmly in hand. She placed her right index finger through the pin loop and pulled it out.

James timed the fuse in his head for a few seconds before he gave Erin a quick nod and quickly exposed himself, delivering a few short bursts of fire to the jackals, before quickly retreating as they fired on him.

Erin simultaneously broke from behind the tower and lobbed the grenade at the jackals before she, too, retreated.

The Covenant soldiers had done exactly what they wanted them to. James' distraction worked perfectly, drawing the jackal's attention away so Sergeant Briggs could deploy the frag without taking a single bit of flak.

The M9 landed at the feet of the pair of alien soldiers, causing them to scatter frantically for cover. But it was too late. A few short seconds passed before the unmistakable sound of a fragmentation grenade exploding shattered the air, sending a gruesome plume of dirt, ridden with blood, shrapnel and body parts, high into the air.

Immediately, on the cue of the explosion, the three marines broke from cover and fired down range as they pulled back to the interior of the structure just as a fresh squad of grunts, lead by a Major Domo, showed up on the scene.

The elite quickly spotted the fleeing humans and directed the entire squad to open fire on them. But, they had arrived too late and reacted too slowly. Their rounds only managed to scorch metal as the marines entered the structure, surrendering the surface to them.

* * *

In the under ground tunnels, it was a god awful situation. The pained moans and groans of wounded soldiers echoed through the halls. Blood stained the walls and floors where men had either staggered their way in or were dragged by fellow soldiers because they were too hurt to move under their own power.

James, Erin and Chips made their way downward into a larger central room where the survivors had gathered.

The room was marked by a deep trench in the center, spanned by two small foot bridges. Each side of the crevice was flanked by a large trapezoid shaped metal block that stood about eight feet tall and was set precisely in the center of the room at the edge of the trench. And, just like the first room James had awoken in, this structure also produced those odd pulses of blue colored plasma from the center of the trench. As had happened before, the beam traveled through the room, towards the ceiling, and out the top of the building. It was anyone's guess what they were supposed to do, but, frankly, no one cared at the moment. With an entire Covenant army knocking on your door, it isn't exactly the most opportune time to think about exploring a derelict ring.

Inside the chamber, the atmosphere was thick with death. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with the pungent aroma of antiseptics and other medical supplies as Skip and Corporal Avarik performed frantic acts of triage in a desperate fight to keep as many troopers alive as possible.

James fought the urge to gag at the sight of the dead and dying while he scanned the wounded for any of his men. A quick survey revealed that none of his own were among the injured. So, he turned to Erin. "Secure this room. Don't let the enemy inside. I'm going to find Lieutenant Dyre."

"Right." Briggs replied.

Lieutenant Shade quickly wound his way through the room towards one of the foot bridges over the trench, stepping around or over the bodies of fellow soldiers as he went. On the other side of the trench, he encountered Corporal Parks, who was standing there in dazed shock, his pistol in hand, as he stared blankly at the carnage on the other side of the trench. James approached him. "You alright, Corporal?"

Parks moved his head in a tired, sluggish manner and looked at the Lieutenant. "Y-yeah... I'm pretty good... I guess."

"Do you know where Lieutenant Dyre is?" James asked.

"The Lieutenant is top side." Allen answered, gesturing over his shoulder towards the doorway leading back to the surface, the feint sounds of battle creeping into the tunnels from above.

"Help Sergeant Briggs secure this area. Do not let the Covenant in." James ordered.

Allen didn't reply, instead, his eyes remained fixed on the scenario in front of him. His mind was too frazzled by combat to comprehend the order to endure more as the desperate please of the wounded wormed their way into his head and played out like an unholy choir, paralyzing him with apprehension and anxiety.

"Corporal! Did you hear me? I said secure this room!" Lieutenant Shade sternly reasserted his command.

Parks was shaken from his stupor by James' coarse tone. "Yes, sir." He shakily replied as he finally looked his commander in the eyes.

James casually nodded and made his way towards the tunnels that would lead him back to the surface.

* * *

"Where's my damn air support!?" Dyre frantically shouted into his comlink as the battle raged between his squad and the Covenant.

"_Inbound, Lieutenant. ETA, five minutes. Just hold tight._" A pilot informed him.

"We don't have five minutes! We need evac now!" The Imperial Lieutenant fired back into the mic. As he argued with the pilot, a sudden alarm rose up from one of his men.

"Take cover!" He shouted.

Dyre's attention quickly snapped to the trooper for a brief second before he realized that he was pointing towards the sky. In an instant, Dyre shifted his eyes skyward at the exact moment he heard the awful howling sound of an approaching Banshee.

The alien aircraft opened up on the tightly packed squad of stormtroopers below who were trapped between the small building that housed the underground entrance and a set of metal pipe like structures that jutted up around them and encircled the building, creating four narrow alleyways all around, save the two ground level entryways that the Imperials had secured.

Lieutenant Dyre ducked for cover behind a tall pine tree as the Banshee's strafed their position. The ground around him was torn to pieces as it was raked by rapid fire plasma bursts, and he felt small twigs from the tree bounce off of his helmet as the lethal volley of plasma washed over them, mowing down three helpless stormtroopers in the process before the fighters passed over their heads and continued on. "We're getting massacred out here! We need air support now!" He furiously stated to the inbound pilots.

"_We're nearly there, sir._" The pilot replied.

Dyre was becoming ever more aggravated and frustrated by their situation. If he waited any longer for air support to arrive, there wouldn't be anyone left to rescue. "Fall back to the structure! Everyone inside!" He ordered.

His men immediately followed his command and began heading for the door, abandoning their positions in haste as the Banshee's doubled back around and set up for a second run.

James had only just made it to the bend in the hall when a small group of three stormtroopers came rushing around the corner at the top of the ramp up ahead and passed him by on their way to the central room. "_Things must be bad._" He thought. But rather than turn and head back with them, he pressed onward towards the Lieutenant.

At the top of the ramp, things got worse as the sounds of utter chaos filtered into the passage way before Lieutenant Dyre and Sergeant Elsek came running into the room from outside, clearing the threshold just before a large green explosion engulfed the door and sent the last stormtrooper in line flying through the air to impact the far wall.

Without saying a word to him, the pair brushed past him and continued deeper into the facility.

James instantly took a cue from them and followed them back inside as a squad of jackals and grunts poured through the door and took the top floor by force before turning their advance on the troopers below.

* * *

Lieutenant Shade had just cleared the doorway heading back into the underground chamber when a series of plasma bolts zipped behind his back and burned the wall. "Take up defensive positions! They're coming in!" He hurriedly shouted to his squad as he sprinted to the far side of the room across the trench to join his team mates.

"Form up on me!" Dyre commanded as he took a position behind a wall and aimed his E-11 at the doorway.

Instantly, four more stormtroopers, Avarik and Elsek included, took up positions at the UNSC's backs and trained their rifles on the entry way.

They group did not have to wait long before the first grunt poked its head out into their line of sight.

"Fire!" Dyre shouted.

The room lit up with red laser bolts as they concentrated their efforts on the central doorway, cutting the lone grunt down with little effort in a blinding hail of red lasers as more Covenant troops filled the gap and continued to pour in, despite being in an unfavorable tactical situation.

Dyre targeted the next alien trooper through the door and fired off a single round. The laser careened through the air at incredible speed, impacting, ironically, on the Forerunner glyph imprinted on the grunts armor over its left chest and burned its way through, killing it instantly. But, even as he dispatched one of the little critters, two more, followed by a jackal, entered the room. He fired on one of the grunts and put a red bolt straight through its head.

The jackal reacted by kneeling and pulling its shield close to itself before firing on the Lieutenant, launching a deadly series of super heated plasma bolts in his direction.

Lieutenant Dyre took cover as the green colored rounds passed him by and seared into the metal slab at the center of the room in front of the trench.

Just mere feet away from Lieutenant Dyre's position, James and his squad were equally ensnared with the enemy. The continual rapport of assault rifles rang out in the room as the floor was quickly littered with spent ammo casings wile they fought fervently to hold off the Covenant pincer attack.

"Down in front!" One of the miniature grunts alerted his squad mates in its high pitched voice as he primed a grenade and hurled it at the marines.

"Everybody down!" James shouted as he leapt away from the corner of the wall and away from the grenade, ending up on his stomach with his arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and head for protection.

It didn't take long for the alien device to explode and send out a lethal cloud of blue vapor.

While Lieutenant Shade and the rest of the squad scattered to protect themselves from the explosion, the Covenant infantry pushed in on them, taking advantage of their situation.

After regaining his wits following the explosion, James rolled over on to his back only to see a grunt taking aim on him with a needler.

"Die, devil!" The Unggoy taunted with joy as it prepared to fire.

"You first." James replied through clenched teeth as he placed his hand on the grip of his pistol and quickly drew it from its holster.

The action happened too fast for the grunt to react to and it soon received a solitary 12.7mm high explosive round from the marine Lieutenant's sidearm to the center of the forehead. The result was immediate as a goopy mass of brain matter and blood was forced out the back of the creature's head before it fell backwards and landed in a sitting position, its body propped up by the breathing tank on its back.

James didn't wait before he pushed himself up from the ground and back to his feet to rejoin the battle. As he did, however, he suddenly realized that silence had overtaken the room. No longer did the sound of assault rifles resonate around, nor did the sounds of Covenant troopers. And he soon discovered why. Standing before him, was a seven foot tall figure clad in unmistakable Spartan armor, his face hidden by the amber colored visor of his helmet. The Lieutenant could hardly believe his eyes. As far as he knew, all of the Spartans were wiped out on Reach when the Covenant glassed it. And yet, in direct defiance of his perception, there he was, Spartan 117, Master Chief, in the flesh, standing in the same room as him only a few feet away. It was almost surreal.

"_I've called for an evac._" Cortana suddenly informed him over the trans comm system, snapping James out of his wide eyed gaze of disbelief.

His mind finally processed everything and James responded. "Roger that. Marines, assemble for evac, pronto!" But, as the words escaped his mouth, he was suddenly reminded of his squad. He had no idea what had happened to them between the time the enemy first attacked and when the grenade went off. Turning his attention to their well being, he made the command for roll call. "Marines, report in!"

Lieutenant Shade didn't need to wait long before all of the names came rolling in.

He exhaled a sigh of relief as each of his squad members reported in, safe and sound. With his squad now accounted for, James turned back to the Master Chief. "Sir, am I glad to see you. I thought we were in real trouble."

The Chief said nothing in response as Lieutenant Dyre approached them.

"Who is this?!" He asked, firmly demanding answers as he approached the armored soldier.

The Spartan reminded the Lieutenant somewhat of a Mandalorian in all of his battle armor. And he had performed as such when they first met. His squad was relieved of their troubles when the green armored soldier made his way down the halls before them, tearing through the Covenant lines, sending grunts and jackals alike fleeing with his mere presence. The man fought with an unrestrained ferocity and tenacity, shrugging off multiple attacks from the enemy while he and his men watched on, stunned, as the armored warrior wiped out an entire squad of Covenant with little more than his rifle and bare hands.

"_**He**__ is Spartan 117. He's also the reason you're alive right now._" Cortana answered, agitated by the Imperial Lieutenant's attitude. "_Just who might __**you**__ be?_"

Dyre was shocked by the female voice as it came over his helmet's comlink. "I am Lieutenant Dyre, commanding officer of the 124th Stormtrooper platoon in service to his Royal Majesty, Emperor Palpatine. Just who are you?!" He sternly asked in return.

"_UNSC A.I. serial number CTN 0452-9._" Cortana smugly replied.

"Well, whoever you are, you listen, and you listen good. I will not be treated in such a manner. I am a representative of the..." He began.

"_The Galactic Empire, I know. I've been monitoring you ever since you entered the system._" She interrupted, her tone of voice carrying a certain level of self satisfaction. "_And since we have been the ones pulling your men out of the fire, I suggest you take a more agreeable tone before you do something stupid._"

"Listen you..." Dyre started to reply, fire building in his demeanor.

"That's enough!" James interrupted the escalating tensions as he shifted his view between Master Chief and Lieutenant Dyre. "With all due respects, ma'am, the Empire has agreed to help us against the Covenant. Given our situation, I don't see refusing their aid to be a very tactically sound play." He calmly said, feeling kind of awkward having to speak to Chief in order to speak to Cortana.

The Spartan remained completely still and silent as she carried out a conversation with Lieutenant Shade. "_Of course, Lieutenant._" She stated, her previously brash tone now more casual and benign. "_Perhaps it would be a good idea for us to meet with the Imperial command._"

"That shouldn't be a problem. Should it?" James asked as he turned to Dyre.

"I'm sure the Admiral will be most interested in meeting with the two of you." He responded, his ire raised by Cortana's disrespecting attitude.

"_We should get moving, then, Lieutenant._" Cortana answered in turn.

The group then broke from their location and moved outside to meet up with the evac shuttle to await transport to the Imperial fleet.


	6. Best Laid Plans

Okay, after a very long wait, here it is, the real chapter 6. Forgive the shortness of this one. Things will pick up on chapter 7. Sorry for the wait, and thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!!

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 6

Best Laid Plans....

The rouge colored triangle shaped lights at the center of the massive steel doorway flashed twice before they turned to a bright green as a dull mechanical sound echoed down the spacious hallway, releasing the locks that separated the Covenant from the control room beyond. The door creaked and groaned loudly as its gears and internal workings sprung to life for the first time in thousands of years and pulled the metal slabs apart in four spots, granting 'Vitokree and his warriors access to the secrets of Halo that had remained buried, sealed away by the Forerunners themselves, for centuries.

The Shipmaster was the first one to set foot inside the cavernous room that was home to the very heart of Halo, two other elites close behind him. The group's every step echoed as they walked across the mirrored surface of the span towards a simple holographic control panel suspended in mid air at about waist level in front of a circular walkway. As they reached the console and the sound of their last foot steps dissipated into the air, Sola took a moment to survey his surroundings.

The gigantic dome shaped room was empty and dim, save for the pale green light being emitted by the control console. It did not meet with the vision he had built for the control room in his own mind. He had imagined something more spectacular. And the temple like exterior they were forced to ascend to reach this point, turned out to be a misleading facade. For all of the elegance and complexity of the ring, this is where it was all operated from? A simple control panel in the midst of an empty room?

"_How disappointing._" He thought as he brought his attention back to the control panel. Looking at the panel, he noticed that it seemed to be in some kind of idle mode as it pulsed slowly, a single purple colored glyph printed in its center. 'Vitokree regarded the control panel for a moment before he reached a steady hand towards it and stretched his fingers wide before placing his palm flat on the console.

The hologram reacted instantly to his touch and a low pitched ring sounded through out the room as the holographic panel visibly changed its shape, becoming longer than it was originally and giving rise to more signs and symbols while the enclosure was illuminated by the lights rimming both the ceiling and the upper section of the expansive pit over which they were standing.

'Vitokree, though he was taken by surprise by the instantaneous reaction of the panel in response to his action, stood his ground, using his warrior training to remain unflinching as the control room continued to come back to life.

A massive spectral projection of the installation suddenly formed and encircled the walkway before an equally transparent visualization of Threshold appeared in the center of the circular catwalk.

Sola looked around the room as the control center finally fell silent following its first activation after several thousands of years of inactivity. What was before him now was a bit more indicative of what one might expect to find in a location dubbed the "control room". Satisfied with the effects of his simple gesture, the Shipmaster returned his eyes to the control panel and scanned the various new switches and symbols with a mind towards deciphering the secrets of the ring world. With little hesitation, he reached out and tapped one of the glyphs on the console.

A page of Forerunner text immediately appeared above the main control panel and slowly began to scroll, top to bottom.

'Vitokree read the passing letters and symbols with great scrutiny, attempting to extract useful information from them. As he read on, one particular sentence caught his attention. He stopped the text in place with another stroke on the control panel and focused in on the string of words and read them to himself once again. His pupils dilated in both awe and trepidation as he realized the meaning in the ancient passage. "_The Prophets are wrong._" He muttered well beneath his own breath as the full weight of that one sentence sank into his mind.

The elite minors with him took note of their commander's reaction, and one sought to question him. "What is it? Is Halo a weapon as the Hierarchs predicted?"

Sola turned to his guards, "Halo is a weapon as they predicted." He flatly stated, masking his mental state of vindicated certitude and excitation at his discovery.

The news seemed to excite his fellow Sangheili, but, unknown to them, it was having a much different effect on the Shipmaster.

Turning his mind back to the Forerunner lexicon, 'Vitokree began to interpret the information laid out before him. He had always suspected that the Prophets were wrong, and now, here it was, irrefutable proof of their fatuity.

Halo, the very object of the Gods to which the Prophets place so much faith, had now betrayed them. With but a simple twitch of his finger, the station had divulged its greatest secrets to him, and he would endeavor to use that information against the Hierarchs to free the elites of their shackles and restore his peoples long repressed honor.

But how to best utilize this information? His mind began to formulate possibilities as ideas collided with one another, creating a cascading torrent of intentionally devious thoughts with one collective aim – disprove the Prophets, silence their lies and, most of all, open the rest of his brother's eyes to this beacon of truth and show them the way back to their identity, back to their heritage. As he worked within his mind to contrive an arcane plot, an answer gradually came together out of the numerous concepts careening through his head at the moment and formed his solution. "_Yes, that should serve my purposes well._" He thought to himself with great satiation before he reached back out to the control panel and closed the information he had accessed, returning the console to its original state.

As he turned away from the holographic panel and strode out of the control center, Sola had the innate sense that it would not be much longer now. Halo had enlightened him and substantiated all he had come to suspect over the years. Soon, the elites would see the truth, as would the rest of the creatures of the Covenant. And when they did, he would lead them against their false Prophets and topple their flawed ideology once and for all.

"You know, Chief, I got the distinct impression that the Admiral didn't really care for you." James stated conversationally with a smirk as the two made their way towards the med bay aboard Impend.

He knew very well that the Imperial commander didn't approve of Chief, it was evident in his reactions upon their first meeting. The Admiral was very distant from the Spartan in their talks, despite his few words of praise towards him for saving his men from the fire on the ring's surface. Lieutenant Shade had closely observed the man during their meeting, watching him, taking note of his actions. And, as he had hoped, they had told him exactly what he wanted to know. The Admiral had, unwittingly, let slip his true feelings towards the UNSC with his haughty remarks and atmosphere of aplomb that he was so disposed to allowing himself to exist in. As he had quickly come to expect from the Admiral, he was withdrawn from any of the UNSC dealings, failing to make an honest effort to broach any further strengthening of their relationship by choosing to interact with them just long enough to maintain their working, albeit shaky alliance with the common aim of defeating the Covenant. James had anticipated as much of the man taking up his favored stance once again that the Empire was superior to them in every way, so it came as no great shock to him when the Admiral only tolerated their presence long enough to gain insight into recent developments. But that was fine by the Lieutenant's estimations. In fact, nothing could have worked better for them. Nothing, except, of course, a willing Imperial co-operation that wasn't dominated by an ego-centric maniac with delusions of grandeur.

In the mean time, however, James resolved to play along with their perception of the marines and the Master Chief. Let them think of the UNSC as an ill-equipped, underpowered band of "inferior beings". Such a lowly assumption of their capabilities would only serve to bite them in the ass if the time later came wherein such action was required to ensure the survival of the UNSC.

Master Chief didn't answer the Lieutenant's remark, but James still got the feeling that, inside, the Spartan was somewhat pleased with himself that he had been able to make such an impression on the Admiral. Or at least that's what James assumed the Chief was feeling, it was certainly how he felt. There came, with the Spartan, a certain level of security and assuredness that had not existed before upon their first arrival on the ring, their first meeting with the Empire. Each of those events, though James played them as casually and as professionally as he could, were still nerve wracking events wrought with uncertainty. But now, the dynamics had entirely changed in the Lieutenant's eyes. Now they weren't alone in this, their most challenging endeavor yet.

Even so, in spite off all that was transpiring around them, it was still impossible to tell from one minute to the next just how or what the Chief felt. His helmet never left his head, so you could never read his facial features to gage the situation by his reaction. Even when he talked, he let slip no indicators of his true emotions or feelings. It was the same rough, deep tone that it always was, unshakable and confident, like nothing in the entire galaxy could ever shock, surprise or frighten him.

And for a fleeting moment, in a passing thought that found its way to the forefront of his mind, in a way, James felt a measure of pity for Chief. On one side, he couldn't imagine that he was so emotionally stunted to the point where he couldn't experience or act out deep emotional feelings and tenancies. Even the most rigorous of military training regimens couldn't force your humanity from you. It could make you into a better killer, a tougher person more resistant to the horrors of war, yes, but it could never fully strip the true nature of a man from him. And yet, there was the other side of the fence, the side on which his kind existed in their own world. A world on which the Lieutenant could only speculate and guess at with his limited perception of the Spartan's. And what he perceived of their world was one full of continual competition for survival, a world where to be anything but a hardened killer meant the continual prospect of death. That wasn't to say that the marine corps. didn't face annihilation on a daily basis at the hands of the Covenant, far from it. But, every time the impossible needed to be done, the Spartan's were the ones the UNSC called up to the front. Each Spartan, individually, had probably seen more horrors and hell than any given squad of marines combined. Each one, undoubtedly, a product of the most daunting and horrific situations one could imagine.

And that was the side that James couldn't help but feel sorry for. To live, continually, in such a world was something that he never wanted to experience. How any living thing, cognitively aware of its own existence, could do that day in and day out, and still maintain sanity, was a concept fully beyond his comprehension.

However, Lieutenant Shade quickly disbanded these thoughts and ruminations, relegating them to a more appropriate time, as the two reached the door leading to the medical bay, its entrance guarded by no less than four of the armored Stormtroopers. On approach to the doorway, the ranking Imperial soldier assigned to guard the location gave the Lieutenant and the Chief a simple nod to allow them to pass by unhindered.

James nodded back, if only for appearances. Internally, he deeply resented the fact that he and his troops had been sequestered to the medical exam room shortly after their arrival. It was the ultimate act of distrust. Though, from a certain stand point, he could see the logic in the Imperial move seeing as how Chief appeared at a near random interval without warning. Normally, he, and the rest of his troops, would have more than happily co-operated with the Empire, were it not for the fact that he felt he and his men were effectually taken prisoner simply because of the Admiral's paranoia.

Entering into the medical bay, James quickly spotted all of his squad mates convened in the room; as if they had anywhere else to be. Even Lauren, who had been incapacitated for some time due to her wounds, had made a full recovery and was chatting with the others.

"How's it going in here?" He cheerfully asked, happy to be back amongst more friendly company.

"As good as you can get when you're a prisoner I guess." Skip quipped as he slowly spun himself around in a swiveling chair from one of the nearby computer consoles and stared absently at the ceiling of the room.

James smiled and let out a light chuckle at the remark and the corpsman's bored actions before he turned his attention on Lauren. "And how are you feeling? Better I hope?"

Lauren nodded. "A lot better, actually. That Corporal..... Avarik, he said my wounds have healed completely. And I gotta say, it feels like nothing ever happened." She gladly informed the Lieutenant before she pushed herself off of the edge of the cot on which she was sitting. A certain spring returned to her step.

"Well, you definitely look better." James complimented her, astounded by the medical applications that the Empire had at its disposal. Their bacta had done in a few short hours what combined efforts from UNSC technologies would take about a day to do.

"Don't let him fool ya. There is no medical power in the universe that can make you look better." Chips sarcastically jabbed from his seat at a table, his feet propped atop it as he leaned back in the chair and carefully twisted the pointed edge of his combat survival knife beneath the edge of his fingernail, prying the dirt and grit out.

"I resent that!" Lauren shot back, realizing the teasing nature of her comrade's words.

"More like resemble that...." Chips quickly replied with a satisfied smirk.

"You see the kind of crap I put up with here, Lieutenant?" Lauren asked, shaking her head as she crossed her arms.

"Alright you two.... That's enough." James intervened, breaking up their friendly competition of wit and turning everyone's attention to more pressing matters. "Okay, everyone listen up.... I've got some good news, and some bad news."

Skip stopped turning him self about in the chair and came to rest, facing the Lieutenant. "I vote for the good news first."

"The good news is, Cortana has informed me that she was able to pinpoint the location of the Captain...." James said, a certain hint of optimism in his voice.

"I hesitate to ask what the bad news is." Erin said, expecting the worst. And, given their current situation, if things got worse, she feared none of them wold make it off of this ring alive.

".... The bad news is, he's being held prisoner on a Covenant ship." James reluctantly stated, almost fearing that the news of the Captain being the captive of the Covenant would be, in some way, demoralizing to his troops.

"Oh, that's just great." Skip mused, a sense of helplessness in his tone.

"It's not all bad, though." The Lieutenant assured his compatriots, a measure of hope in his voice. "Cortana has assured me that she has devised a way to effect a rescue of the Captain, but we need to get off of this ship first."

"Well, I hope you've got a plan for that, mate. Because I highly doubt the Imperials are just gonna let us walk out the front door." Chips stated, pointing out their most obvious and immediate predicament as he sheathed his knife in its scabbard and planted his feet on the floor.

"That, we have a plan for." James happily informed the group before he turned to the Chief. "Go ahead, Master Chief." He said, adding a nod of confirmation.

Chief reached a hand up to his helmet and retrieved Cortana's memory chip, pulling it free form the socket on his armor and placing it in a nearby computer console.

A short second later, Cortana's blue holographic form flickered to life on a nearby hologram projection pad.

"You know, for as "perfect" as the Admiral likes to play the Empire, their technology is really under equipped to deal with advanced intelligence constructs." Cortana noted, her tone carrying a sense of pride that she was able to so easily overcome the Empire's computer networks with little hassle.

Corporal Parks' voice piped into the conversation, his tone clearly relating his being at odds with the task at hand. "Excuse me, yeah.... I'd like to get back to the part where you tell us just how you plan on saving the Captain from the middle of a Covenant ship."

"The Captain is currently being held aboard one of their cruisers, the Truth and Reconciliation...." She began, relaying the relevant information she had managed to abscond while sifting through the Covenant battle net unencrypted military communications.

"_And the Lieutenant and his men, sir? What of them?_" Sykes inquired as his holographic form flickered on the projection pad in Davro's private quarters.

"They are here, under surveillance until I deem them fit to be released." Davro answered. "Even though they are insignificant next to our forces, they are well organized and appear to be far more informed and resourceful then we had earlier thought." He continued, a slight level of reluctance and indignation in his words as he used the term "resourceful" to describe the marines.

Though he may very well never admit such openly in a public forum, internally he acknowledged the UNSC's efficiency and organization, despite the fact that he felt they were of inferior quality to the Imperial forces over which he had command. In spite of the difficulties looming above them here on Halo, the marines seemed to project a professionalism in their performance and an advanced understanding of their enemies that had allowed them to form a cohesive resistance out of a broken defense. A trait he would openly admire were it not for his deepest suspicions against them.

"_And the Spartan, sir?_"

The word "Spartan" came to Davro's ears like the shrill sound of nails on a chalk board. "He's here with them...." He paused for a second as he physically grimaced and twisted his face into a sneer of disdain "That man, that "Master Chief".... I don't trust him. He could make things exceedingly difficult for us here. When I release the Lieutenant and his squad, he is the one you should watch closely, Captain. Keep your vigil on him, do not let him make a move without our knowing it." The Admiral ordered, his demands steeped with unabashed denigration for, and mistrust in, the Chief.

Sykes nodded in agreement before an unexpected disruption intruded upon their conversation as the comm on Davro's desk clicked to life.

"Yes, what is it?" Davro asked, slightly irritated with the unscheduled intervention as he depressed a button on the console and replied.

"_Sir, we're detecting an unauthorized computer tap within the ship, centered in med bay 2-B._" A tech officer informed him.

The Admiral's eyes flashed with rage, and the complexion on his face reflected such as he grit his teeth in anger. He knew the exact cause for the disturbance. "That damn A.I.!" He spat with fury as he curled his fist tightly and slammed it on his desk.

"_Shall I activate security measures, sir?_"

Davro relaxed his body for a moment as an idea played out in his head. His eyes softened and a feint, yet knowing grin tugged at his face as he issued his orders. "No. Take no action. Monitor and record the communication and open a direct link to my office. I want to know the full details of what is going on."

"_Yes, sir._" The tech replied before the link went dead.

"_What "A.I." are you referring to, sir?_" Sykes asked, a bemused look on his face.

"It's some sort of computer program that the Spartan has." The Admiral answered, his tone dominated by an extreme dislike for the construct. "I was, conveniently, left unaware of its existence when I first met that "Master Chief"."

"_I see. And what do you plan to do to counter this.... Program."_ Sykes inquired.

Davro sighed helplessly. "For the moment, nothing. We have yet to devise a strategy for combating it."

Suddenly, a shrill beep emitted from the comms console on the Admiral's desk as a small red light lit up, informing him that a secure line was open for him to listen in on. Davro took immediate note of the device and gave the Captain a silent command to remain quiet during the transmission before he pressed a switch that opened the line.

Instantly, voices could be heard over the speaker. Voices that belonged, unmistakably, to those of the A.I. and the marines.

"_...._It was heavily damaged in the battle above the ring. By my estimations, the Covenant should be more concerned with making repairs than gearing up for a military action."Cortana stated.

"Yeah, but, even then, a handful of marines versus an entire enemy ship? Forgive my pessimism, but that sounds like suicide." Corporal Parks chimed in, his tone clearly distressed by the plan. "Even if the Covenant are preoccupied, they're guarding a damaged ship. If anything, I'd expect their security to be...."

"Quiet, Parks."Lieutenant Shade's voice demanded over the conversation. "Cortana has a point. If we can ambush the Covenant when they least expect it, we should be able to board the ship, retrieve the Captain and be gone before they can fully mobilize to stop us." There was a brief lull, before the Lieutenant spoke again. "What's the best route of attack?"

"Ambushing the Covenant at the gravity lift loading zone seems to be the most convenient line of attack." She answered. "From there, we can use the lift to enter the ship and begin our search for the Captain."

"And our exit strategy?" James inquired further.

"Pelican Echo 419 will be on station for the mission for insertion and extraction. If the plan goes well, we should be in and out within twenty minutes, tops."

"How can you even place that kind of time table on this mission?" Parks rebutted, the manner of his speech clearly insinuating his growing discomfort with the plot.

"Once we're inside the ship, I should be able to lock on to the Captain's transponder signal. That will guide us to him." Cortana re-assured the squad.

"What about enemy defenses? How can we get around them? Fighting an entire Covenant ship full of aliens isn't exactly a winning proposition." Sergeant Briggs, asked.

"I should be able to work my way into the Covenant computer systems aboard the Truth and Reconciliation. From there, I can give you play by play updates on enemy countermeasures." Cortana confidently asserted.

"Maybe we should get the Empire involved here." Sam suggested. "I mean, we're allies with them, right? And the Covenant don't seem overly fond of 'em either. We could...."

But he was cut off mid sentence by his commanding officer. "No, I don't want to involve the Empire any more than I have to. I don't trust that Admiral. He's got an agenda of his own, one I'm not so sure doesn't involve us being used as cannon fodder."

"But, sir.... The Empire...." He persisted.

"The Lieutenant said no. And I tend to agree with him." Briggs stepped into the conversation, reinforcing Lieutenant Shade's decision. "Besides, half a dozen marines has a better chance of infiltrating an enemy ship than an entire attack force does. We do that, and the Covenant will see it coming from a mile away. You'll basically have just enough time to kiss your ass goodbye before the enemy overruns us."

"But, we helped the Empire to rescue their men. They owe us this...." Skip adamantly said as he took up the defense of his fellow soldier's convictions.

"Yeah, they probably do owe us.... Big time." James said. "But I wouldn't count on it. There's no way the Admiral will release his men to be used as a distraction so we can accomplish what we need to get done."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Parks countered in disbelief.

"I've seen his kind before, Corporal. Even the UNSC has 'em." Shade answered, confident in his assessment of the Imperial leader. "Admiral Davro is the kind of guy who's not willing to help someone out unless he feels he can personally gain from it. That's all he ever wants, is personal glory and gratification."

"What's so wrong with that, mate?" Chips piped into the discussion. "Nothing wrong with wanting a little pat on the back for a job well done."

"Nothing is wrong with that, you're right. But, when the choice is made to sacrifice as many lives as possible for that recognition, that's when it stops being about doing your job and more about doing what you think makes you look good." James replied, unwavering in his absolute perception of the Admiral.

Erin quickly jumped in, intercepting any further complaints before they could be voiced. "We can handle this. With the Chief on our side, and Cortana hacking into the enemy battle net to keep us one step ahead of the game, this should be no problem at all." She said, a great level of assurance and confidence in her tone.

Admrial Davro had heard all he needed to hear from the marines discussion, and switched off the direct line with the med bay. He leaned forward on his desk, placing his elbows on its surface as he steepled his fingers in front of his face, deep in thought on how to best exploit the information he had just gained privilege to. Then, a brilliant scheme came to him and began forming out of the myriad of other thoughts buzzing about in his mind. A scheme he hoped would aid him in finally breaking the Empire free of its "need" for the UNSC so they could operate autonomously, as was always the intended nature of this expedition, to assert Imperial dominion over the vast horizons of the universe. A maniacal grin of self satisfaction played on Davro's face as he settled for this plot, this one plan that would inevitably see the marines destroyed and the Empire imbued with great power. "Captain, I want our men on that ship."

"_Shall I assemble a strike team, sir?_"

"No, a full fledged strike is too risky, it may very well give away my intents." The Admiral answered, his tone changed to one of deep thought and consideration. He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment before he issued his orders with great joy. "Send one of our "special assets" to board the ship."

Sykes was suitably stunned by the order. One man against an entire enemy ship, it was madness. "_Sir, are you certain? It's just one man. What could he do...._" But he was interrupted mid sentence as the Admiral put a hand in the air, silently ordering the Captain to stop talking and listen.

"I don't intend to insert him into the midst of the fray. Instead, we will use the marine strike force as a mask. He will slip in behind them and use their disruption to his advantage."

Sykes was slow to fully grasp the context of Davro's plans, and openly questioned his motives. "_Sir, if I may speak freely, just what are you planning to accomplish here?"_

Davro sighed, slightly disappointed by his subordinate's lax understanding of the larger view of the plot. Never the less, he chose to calmly iterate his true intents to the Captain, rather than chastise him. "If we can gain access to a Covenant ship, we can learn everything there is to learn about them. We will be able to effectively fight them by ourselves, we will no longer need the assistance of the UNSC."

The Captain got a knowing look on his face as the full nature of the Admiral's ambitions became clear to him. They would use the marines to destroy all of their enemies. It was a brilliant plan, a sinister plot to eradicate the enemies of the Empire that was so simple and devious that it was elegant.

Davro read his cohort's reaction and responded in kind with a twisted grin of satisfaction. "Yes, now you see. By doing this, the marines will, unwittingly, be committing military suicide. And once we have what we need from the Covenant ship, we will no longer have a need for the UNSC."

Captain Sykes reciprocated the Admiral's enthusiasm. "_I will set to work at once, sir._" He obediently replied before bowing his head and ending the communication to head off and set in motion the Admiral's ambitions.

Back in the medical bay, Chief had only just again taken Cortana from the console and placed her back into his helmet.

"Do you think it worked?" James asked, looking at the Spartan, but speaking, instead, to Cortana, with whom he had formulated their plan for escaping Impend with on their way to the medical exam room from the bridge.

"_If the Admiral is as predictable as we think he is, then we should be out of here in no time._" She answered in certainty.

"Did what work?" Erin inquired, oblivious to the information that James seemed to share with the A.I. construct.

"I had Chief plant Cortana in the computer system. We knew that any breach in security would automatically call the attention of the Admiral. So...." He began, leading her down the trail of deception they had just laid out for the Empire.

Erin got a grin on her face as the Lieutenant made light of his plans to her. She slowly nodded her head in approval. ".... So, when he learns of what we're planning to do, he'll release us to lead him to the ship. From there, he'll use us to help himself score a military victory." But her grin soon faded, replaced by a look of concern. "But what happens after that?"

"With the Captain back in the picture, we can co-ordinate an effective resistance against the Covenant. We won't need the Empire any more." James stated.

"But we can't fight two armies at the same time, sir." Parks worriedly interrupted. "How do you know that this action won't incite the Empire against us?"

James quickly moved to attempt to quell Parks' negativities, realizing that his pessimistic attitude was the farthest thing from productive at the moment. "The Admiral is the kind of guy who makes more enemies than friends because he's too full of himself. His attack on the Covenant ship will only incite the Covenant against his men. That will draw a considerable amount of his attention away from us."

"Which will give us free time to find a way off of this place...." Erin added, a sense of joy in her voice at the fact that, for once, they stood to make exceptional gains against their enemies.

"Exactly." Lieutenant Shade concurred. "Let the Covenant and the Empire fight over this thing. They can have it as far as I'm concerned. No point in losing more lives over some derelict space station."

Seconds after James made his statement, the door to the med bay opened and Lieutenant Dyre, accompanied by Corporal Avarik entered the room.

"Lieutenant Shade, the Admiral would like to extend his apologies for the manner of your recent treatment. He hopes you can understand that it was merely protocol for us to detain you until we were able to fully discern the intentions of you and your men." He finished his announcement, glancing at the Chief briefly, scanning him once again with a leery eye before bringing his attention back to the marine commander.

"And what did you determine through your searches, Lieutenant?" James asked in a smarmy voice as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"The Admiral has decreed that you may leave the ship whenever you wish." He informed them, almost all too happy to be relaying the order. Then, he switched gears and paid James and his men a fond farewell. "This may be the last time we see each other, Lieutenant, so, from one soldier to another, I wish you and your men the best of luck out there." He said, a genuine feel to his words.

"And to you as well, Lieutenant." James replied, extending his hand in friendship.

Dyre received James' gesture with acceptance and shook his hand. His concern for the marines did seem pure, if only because it was based on the common ground of camaraderie and brotherhood amongst soldiers. No matter the boundaries, no matter the separations and differences, Dyre saw Lieutenant Shade and his men as soldiers, brothers in arms. Even though they both came from vastly different worlds, they held a common bond in their service to a cause greater than themselves, a cause that required of them the ultimate sacrifice. It did not matter for what cause James and his troops fought for, Dyre still found a great respect and admiration in any man or woman willing to lay out their lives to protect all that they hold dear.

The kind gesture soon dissipated between the two men, and Dyre took his leave. "Now, if you will excuse me, Lieutenant, I have business to attend to."

"Of course. See you around." James replied.

"I hope so...." Dyre mused in return before leaving the room and taking his soldiers with him.

James turned to his squad. "Okay guys, lets load up and move out. We've got a party to crash."


	7. Truth and Reconciliation

Okay guys, here it is, after a looooooooooooooong wait, chapter 7. sorry it took this long to get you something new to read. I do not intend for it to take this long before the next chapter. Things just got hectic and I lost all focus on writing anything.

I won't keep you any longer. I hope you enjoy it, I'm a bit rusty after some time, so if its awful, just bear with me.

* * *

Tides of Darkness

Chapter 7

Truth and Reconciliation

James felt the Pelican sway and twist beneath him, his back pressed tightly against the wall of the cabin by the force exerted upon him as the dropship made a sharp left turn, veering from its prior course and set a new direction, the pilot's approach guided by the sound of gunfire crackling over the comm in the cockpit.

"_I'm bringing us in, Lieutenant! You better be quick, it won't be long before they're on to us!_" The pilot hurriedly instructed.

"Just get me a clean line of sight!" Shade answered back as the craft banked once more around a nearby cliff and emerged to face the gravity lift beneath the Covenant cruiser. The Lieutenant slammed a fresh clip into the magazine on his SrS99C-S2 AMC sniper rifle, charging the first round into the breach before bringing the stalk to his shoulder, preparing to fire the second the enemy came into range. All the while he waited, the sounds of combat filtered back to him over the radio in the cockpit, painting a picture of chaos for him as they made their final approach.

It seemed to take forever from James' perspective, but the Pelican quickly made an abrupt 180 degree turn, spinning the ship around so that the open crew cabin faced the rear of the Covenant line that was currently hammering away at Sergeant Briggs and her squad as they made their attempt towards the vital gravity lift at the center of a crater on the plateau.

"Hold here!" James barked into his mic, moving from his seat to a prone position on the floor of the crew compartment, affording him a greater deal of accuracy in his shots when compared to attempting to fire off hand or from a sitting position.

"_I'll hold as long as I can, sir! Once you start shooting, they'll know we're here and I'll have to bail!" _

Ignoring the pilot, Lieutenant Shade focused on what he had come here to do. Pressing his eye against the rubber buffer on the scope, he scanned the landscape below, searching for priority targets. But things were difficult to pinpoint through the night vision filter on his rifle scope. Flashes of light from Covenant and human guns alike made for a blinding display of light every now and again in his reticule as plasma bolts and tracer rounds streaked back and forth over the desert floor. James dialed down the night vision power on his scope, reducing some of the flare, but not totally eliminating it. He couldn't completely disengage the night vision either, as doing so would make it impossible to see his targets in the moonless night.

Reaching a free hand to his comm, James contacted Erin, hoping she could guide his shots a bit more accurately amid the turmoil. "Sergeant, do you copy?!"

The message came through broken at first as a series of plasma rounds pass close by Erin's head, forcing her to duck for cover as the counter on her rifle flipped to zero. She ejected the spent clip and reached for a second, fully expecting to wrap her fingers around a fully loaded back up. Much to her shock, however, there were no additional clips to be found, her hand grasping at nothing inside the small ammo pouch on her hip. Stunned, she glanced down at the vacant satchel for a second before tossing her rifle to the side in frustration.

"God damn it!!" She lamented, her temper flared and her comment heated as she resorted to the pistol strapped to her right thigh, pulling it free of its holster. She slipped the clip out of the magazine to ensure that it was fully loaded and ready for action. Luckily, the magazine housed all 12 of its standard rounds. Slamming the clip back in place, she pulled back the slide and charged the first round into the chamber as gunfire continued to erupt around her.

The report of assault rifles rang out in deafening unison from behind the small collection of boulders the squad had taken refuge behind as a myriad of plasma round soared through the air just over their heads, illuminating the ground in a strobing display of cyan and green light as they flew by.

Cautiously, Erin peered over the top of the boulder in front of her, assessing the situation as best she could while the fight raged on furiously, her small band of marines doing their best to punch through to their objective. The Covenant lines had not moved much, their perimeter becoming ever tighter and more consolidated around the periphery of the gravity lift as fresh troops were rapidly shuttled from the belly of the cruiser to the surface to reinforce the line.

"_Shit...._" She cursed beneath her breath, ducking back behind cover. Glancing around, she called out for Parks, hoping that he hadn't yet become a casualty. "Corporal!"

Parks grit his teeth as he took aim on a passing grunt, squeezing the trigger and landing several solid hits on the alien's torso, dropping it instantly in a motionless heap on the ground as the voice of his Sergeant filtered to him over the sounds of battle.

"_Corporal Parks! Get your ass over here damn it!_"

He turned his attention to the right, looking at Sergeant Briggs as she motioned for him. Ducking a few incoming rounds from a needler, the iridescent projectiles deflecting harmlessly away from him off of the granite face of the rock in front of him, Alan made his way over to his CO as quickly as possible, shoving past Lauren in the process, knocking her off her balance just slightly.

Lauren regained herself and shot a passing glare at the Corporal a he continued on. "_Prick.._" She mouthed in silence before looking back to the front. As she did, her vision was instantly filled with the intimidating figure of an armor clad elite Major, towering above her from his position atop the boulder to her right, his weapon already aimed and ready for use. Stunned, Lauren was caught off guard and hastily brought her rifle to her shoulder, her finger already depressing the trigger, when a sudden force shoved her from the left side of her body, forcing her to the desert floor, allowing for several pale blue-white plasma bolts to narrowly miss her as they exited the end of the Major's rifle, each one howling over her and impacting something solid near her position.

Seconds later, the deafening sound of an MA-5B on fully automatic fire resonated from above her head, a concentrated stream of bullets unleashed from the muzzle of the weapon towards the Sangheili commander as empty casings rained down around Lauren, dropping to the ground from the breach of the rifle as each bullet was cycled through in rapid succession. The noise only lasted for a few brief seconds before it stopped, a black gloved hand reaching down for her in the aftermath.

Lauren looked to the hand, her eyes slowly roaming up the armor clad arm before coming to face the familiar amber colored visor of the Master Chief, his solid frame instantly filling her with relief as she reached out to his hand. With little effort, the Spartan helped her back to her feet. She was almost at a loss for words, but managed to thank him for saving her life. "Thanks, Chief. I owe you one."

The Spartan's expressionless face mask looked back at the marine for a second before he gave a simple nod and moved on without a word spoken or a beat missed, engaging more enemy targets in the distance beyond their position.

Lauren collected her rifle from the ground and continued the fight at the Chief's side, grateful that her life had been spared, for the moment at least.

Parks slid into position next to Sergeant Briggs, huddling in close behind the boulder as a few stray plasma bolts trailed just behind him, scorching the face of the rock and burning deep marks in the sands behind his feet. "Ma'am?" He asked, catching his breath as he slowed his pace.

Erin was just about to relay her instructions to the Corporal when a transmission came over her comm channel again.

"_Sergeant, I say again, do you copy?!_"

The voice, though slightly distorted by the effects of combat, was easily recognized as that of Lieutenant Shade.

Responding to the communication, Erin addressed her commanding officer, unsure as to why he was contacting her. "Sir?"

James, relieved that he had finally manged to establish contact with Erin, acted quickly, anxiously scanning the battlefield through the reticule of his sniper scope as he relayed his intents to the Sergeant. "I need you to mark enemy targets, its a mess down there. I can't get a clear shot on anything."

Erin looked to the Corporal, her face twisted in confusion before she replied. "Sir.... Where are you?"

"Now isn't the time, Sergeant. Just follow your orders." The Lieutenant's order was somewhat harsh in its delivery, portraying the clear sense of urgency behind it.

Briggs had little to say in response to her commander's demands. Turning to Alan, she asked him for a marker strobe. "You have any strobes on you?"

"What? Strobes? I...."

"Do you or don't you?" She heatedly interrupted him.

"Uh... Yeah." Parks answered, fishing around his various satchels for a second before producing a small cylindrical object with a laser designation strobe on the top. "There." He said, handing the device over.

Erin took the strobe and depressed a button on the side of the cylinder, activating it before she tossed it over the boulder towards the Covenant lines and contacted James once more. "You see the marker, sir?"

Lieutenant Shade scanned the terrain for a moment, trying to pick out the strobe. For a few seconds, it did not appear anywhere inside his field of view, leading him to assume that the strobe was either not functioning, or had managed to bounce out of his sight behind a rock or tree. He was nearly ready to report the failure to Erin, when a flashing light suddenly appeared on the left hand side of his scope's view. Quickly shifting his eye in the direction of the flashing light, a satisfied smirk formed on his lips as he informed the Sergeant over his comm. "I see it. Keep everyone down, I'm going loud."

"_What the hell? "Going loud"?_" She thought. The situation still hadn't fully sunk in yet. But, acting on James' orders, she instructed her marines to take cover. "Everyone stay down!!"

A few seconds later, the fire withered away from their side as the squad took cover as ordered. Shortly afterwards, an ear-piercing sound was heard emanating from behind the Covenant lines.

The Lieutenant's first shot met its mark with deadly precision, punching through the shields on an elite Minor who had picked up the strobe out of curiosity. The fin-stabilized sabot round bore through, penetrating his head from the back and ripping his lower left jaw off as it tore out the front of his face through his mouth, a gruesome ejection of blood and brain matter trailing the round as it made its exit with ease. The elite slumped to the ground, dropping the strobe as James acquired a new target amid the fleeing ranks of grunts and jackals that broke formation upon witnessing the sudden demise of their leader.

He tracked his targets as fast as his arms could maneuver the rifle, unleashing another aimed round and picking off a jackal in mid-stride, impacting the creature in the side of the head and staining the nearby cliff face with its viscera. His next shot was aimed at another elite as it broke for cover from the sniper fire that was suddenly being brought to bear against them. James' shot was true, shearing through the Sangheili's shields and chest cavity, ripping a large exit wound in the warrior's back as it blasted its path through skin, bone and armor alike. Acting quickly, knowing he only had a small window of opportunity to work with before the Covenant finally realized what was going on, Lieutenant Shade followed another fleeing Covenant soldier in his sights. Confident he had acquired a solid firing solution, he squeezed the trigger, letting the last of his four rounds loose.

The .50 caliber round followed its trajectory with speed and accuracy, finally impacting the head of a grunt, smashing through its skull and exiting the out the back side, punching a hole through the methane breathing tank on its back as it crumpled to the ground.

The bolt on his rifle locked open as the last spent cartridge was thrown from the breach to the floor of the pelican. James scrambled to a knee, ejecting the spent clip and grabbing a spare from the seat next to him on his right. Lugging the over-sized clip from the seat, he slammed it into the rifle and pulled back on the bolt, ramming the first round into the barrel before he hurriedly brought the scope to his eye again, resuming his scan of the field.

Amid a sea of Covenant soldiers, finding a potential target was not difficult. Instead, the task of prioritizing was proving to be the most troublesome. He only had four shots to spare at a time, making each one precious. All over, Covenant soldiers swarmed the crater and the area around the lift. Elites, jackals, grunts, all of them equally dangerous and all of them equally ready, willing and able to kill any human opposition they faced. Though it was not long before he spotted a grunt making a break for a nearby gun emplacement.

With no time to re-position himself in a prone position for a steadier shot, James fired the rifle from where he knelt. The recoil caught him hard in the shoulder, buffeting him and nudging him off balance slightly, causing the round to exit the end of the barrel at an awkward angle. The shot tore through the air at near the speed of sound, burying itself in the dirt just in front of the grunt.

James regained himself, placing the scope to his eye once more only to see that his shot had not met its mark as intended. "Die you little son of a bitch!" He cursed through clenched teeth as he squeezed the trigger for a second time. The rifle kicked him hard once more, but he had prepared himself for it this time, weakening the effect of the recoil. This time, however, his round followed the straight path, catching the unsuspecting grunt in the chest and physically knocking it backwards with the force exerted by the impact of the round.

Lieutenant Shade watched the alien tumble backwards before he moved on in search of new bounties. As he swept his rifle scope over the plateau, though, the pilot suddenly blurted an alarmed message into his ear.

"_They've got us zeroed in! I've got to bail!_"

James was ready to chastise the pilot and order her to hold position, when the dropship was rocked violently as incoming fire from a Covenant AA battery clipped the left wing, forcing the pilot to take evasive maneuvers, throwing the Lieutenant to the floor and causing him to lose his grip on his rifle, allowing it to fall to the floor of the crew cabin.

The pilot adjusted the pelican's pitch, rolling sharply to the right as more ground to air fire came streaking up from the rim of the crater around the gravity lift. "_I can't hold her here, sir! The fire is too heavy! We need to pull out!!_"

Lieutenant Shade pulled himself back to his feet, collecting his rifle in the process as the pilot banked the ship and began pulling away from the fight. James attempted to bring his rifle to bear on the Covenant once more before they were out of range, but the volume of AA fire being thrown up at them was forcing the pilot to make erratic and unpredictable movements. Aiming accurately was all but impossible as the pelican cut hard to the left and tossed him sideways, forcing him to catch himself on the overhead cargo racks. "Christ!!" He shouted in frustration before finally submitting to the obvious fact that they had lost the element of surprise and any form of tactical supremacy.

"Erin, you're on your own. I've done all I can. The Covenant are giving us hell. If we don't get clear, we're going to be downed." He paused for a second before delivering his final message. "Good luck." There was a brief lull in the air-waves before Sergeant Briggs responded to him.

"_Understood. Thanks, sir.... James._" She replied.

He could only watch from the back of the dropship as the fight drew ever further from him, his being forced against his will to leave his marines to an uncertain fate causing him a great deal of mental anguish and fury. He wanted to stay to help them, as their CO, it was his personal duty to lead them into the heart of any conflict. He had always felt a deep sense of responsibility for every life under his command, and was always left deeply wounded when he could no longer fulfill his duty to them. It seemed grossly unfair that he should get to run from the fight while everyone else was left to fend for themselves. Part of him wanted to damn the consequences and turn the pelican around. But his rational side overrode whatever illogical sentiments that may lay behind such motivations and led him instead to the conclusion that he was ultimately of more use to them alive than dead. The pelican made one final turn to its right, rounding a nearby cliff face and allowing the gravity lift to vanish from view.

Turning her attention back to the marines, Erin took note of the sudden drop off in enemy fire on their position, quickly realizing that the havoc James had caused with his surprise attack must have left the Covenant lines disorganized and scattered. Taking a tentative look over the boulder, she was astonished to see that most of the Covenant soldiers had retreated, their elite commanders having been all killed in the fray, striking a great blow to their morale and organization. Very little stood between them and the gravity lift now. Seeing her chance to seize the initiative, Briggs ordered a full advance. "Now!! Hit 'em while they're down!!" She yelled, breaking from her cover to lead the attack, firing her pistol on a nearby grunt that attempted to flee in the face of their assault. Her rounds hit it twice in the back, puncturing its breathing tank and penetrating through to its body, killing it with little effort.

Within moments, the others were right at her back, charging the broken center of the Covenant line and filling the gap instantly, overwhelming what little resistance that still remained.

All around the crater, the tables had suddenly been turned on the Covenant, their hold on the vital gravity lift in danger of being broken. The remains of their defenses could do little to withstand the ferocity of the marines, their advance cutting through with ease. In haste, what Covenant remained decided to turn their AA guns against their own lift, hoping to trap the marines there and slaughter them with little trouble.

"Keep moving!!" Erin continuously urged her troops forward, encouraging them not to relent as she quickly dispatched another grunt with a few well placed shots to its mid section and torso. They were within feet of securing the lift, if they could just scour out the last line of defense, they could secure it and take a rest. "Don't let up! Keep it going!"

Her squad kept up the pressure as steadily as possible, attempting to maintain the vital momentum needed to drive the Covenant away from the gravity lift. And, at first, they made excellent progress. But, as they neared the clearing before the lift, the Covenant AA guns let loose on them, tearing up the area in a hail of lethal plasma that scorched and burned everything in its path.

Sergeant Briggs narrowly escaped being a victim of the surprise attack as a nearby tree was reduced to cinders, forcing her to retreat back to cover. "Shit!!"

Their entire attack had been ground to a halt in the face of the Covenant AA, holding them in place. She realized that unless they were able to resume moving forward, the Covenant would be able to apply pressure to them indefinitely, eventually forcing them back or killing them all at once. They needed to formulate an attack plan to outflank the stationary guns, but they had been caught in full advance. They were spread out and could not clearly communicate a battle plan without making it painfully obvious to the enemy.

But the Sergeant did not have to wait long for an answer to her problem to materialize. To her great surprise, and amazement, the Chief had taken point and pressed beyond the cover at the edge of the clearing, his course set on a dead run towards the gun on the left side of the crater's rim, drawing its fire into an overlapping pattern with the right gun emplacement that forced their respective fields of fire to become concentrated on him, ripping the ground to shreds just behind his advance as their combined fire arcs closed in ever closer.

Seeing the window of opportunity opened by the Spartan, Erin again pushed her marines forward, ordering them against the gun on the right in support of the Chief's efforts. "Hit that gun on the right! Cover the Chief!"

The marines broke cover and advanced rapidly on the position, managing to lay up on the opposite side of the crater's mouth below the gun's effective range and line of sight before the gunners were able to correct their bearings to halt the secondary advance.

Wasting no time, and acting in almost complete unison, Briggs, Parks and Private Dubbo all pulled the pin on a grenade and hurled them over the mouth of the crater towards the Covenant gun.

The squad covered their heads from debris as the grenades went off a short time later, blasting the gun to pieces and silencing the crew permanently as a shower of metal shrapnel and mangled body parts rained down over the landscape.

Moving to inspect the effects of their attempt, Erin slowly stood from her position and eyed the carnage. A smoldering crater and a heap of twisted metal was all that remained of the stationary gun platform that had been trained on them only moments ago. Then, her mind shifted to the Chief as the sudden absence of combat on the plateau caught her attention. Whirling around to face the location of the other gun position, she watched as the Chief calmly made his way to their position, the remaining Covenant gun laying in a burning heap behind him. Turning her mind back to her squad, she issued the call for a status report. "We have any casualties? Anyone wounded?"

Her questions were answered, much to her great relief, with negative responses from the entire squad. She considered it nothing short of a miracle that they had all managed to survive this far. And as much as she would like to tell her marines that it was over, she understood what was required of her. She had to press them forward, regardless.

"Alright. Everyone make checks to your weapons and ammo. Our net move is into the ship." She took a moment of pause, gaging the demeanor of her squad. "It won't be easy, but if we keep it fast, and keep it tight, we should be done in no time."

Her words were met in silence with a series of weary nods as the marines reloaded their weapons and shared what ammo they had left amongst each other.

Erin, in need of a more substantial weapon, holstered her pistol and picked up one of the Covenant plasma rifles from the ground near her feet. It wasn't exactly her most ideal weapon, being a bit over-sized for her and feeling somewhat cumbersome compared to a standard issue assault rifle, but it was better than nothing. Reaching her hand up to her comm, she contacted Lieutenant Shade. "Sir, we've secured the gravity lift and are preparing to move inside now."

"_Understood. We'll be on station and ready for pick up as soon as you radio for us._" He answered. "_Be careful in there._"

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Briggs, out." She looked to her squad one last time, making sure they had everything they would need for the tough slog ahead. "Alright, let's make it happen people."

With that, she, along side the Master Chief, led the marines once more into the breach.

* * *

At the Imperial ground base of operations, a small shuttle broke through the thick cloud bank and descended towards the landing platform, its cargo known only to a select few individuals.

On the landing pad, Captain Sykes awaited the craft's arrival, his task to personally oversee the deployment of its precious cargo as he had been instructed to do by the Admiral.

As Sykes waited, he stared off into the horizon, watching the distant rain clouds inexorably roll towards him. As they moved ever closer to him, one by one the rolling, green hills and snow capped mountains that comprised the distant surface of the ring were blotted out by the advancing torrent of rainwater. Soon, the thick pall of clouds blotted out the sun, bathing the platform in shadow in advance of the storm. As Sykes anxiously awaited the arrival of the shuttle, he felt a light mist begin to fall upon his face, signaling the onset of the coming rainstorm. Within minutes, the shuttle touched down, it's large wings folding upright to allow for the landing gears to deploy. Moments later, the entry ramp opened with a loud hydraulic hiss as steam was visibly expelled from the lines as the ramp extended fully and planted itself on the metal floor of the structure.

A short time later, a figure became visible from within the dim interior of the craft, striding down on to the landing pad to meet with the Captain, its form entirely coated in a glossy layer of protective cortosis weave armor that glinted in the sun as its last few rays were devoured by the coming storm. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about this man, his armor leading many to possibly mistake him for a regular stormtrooper with black armor. But, in truth, he was anything but a typical soldier, his modest appearance belying the true nature of his ruthless lethality and brutal skills.

Approaching the armored figure, Sykes spared him any pleasantries, bypassing a formal introduction and getting straight to the point of the matter. "You may have been deployed by the Emperor, but while you are here, you are under my command. Are we clear?"

The man said nothing in return, the cold, lifeless visage of his helmet staring back at the Captain in silence.

"We have preparations to tend to. Come with me." The Captain sternly continued, turning on his heel and heading back for the base, the armored man close behind him.


End file.
